Tale of the Dark Digidestined
by DuchessRaven
Summary: Years later, the adult digidestineds discover that the darkness is not gone. On the contrary, the reign of ligh is over and darkness rules. And those serving it, are their own children. Chapter 7 UP!!! please RR
1. Mona Ichijouji

HEY PEOPLE. THIS IS A TEST CHAPTER. I WANT TO TURN IT INTO A SERIES BUT NOT SURE WHETHER OR NOT TO. IT'S ABOUT MANY YEARS LATER, WHEN THE DIGIDESTINED DISCOVER THAT THE DARKNESS ISN'T GONE, BUT HAS GROWN. THEIR CHILDREN WILL BE DIVIDED, HALF SERVINGH THE LIGHT, HALF SERVING THE DARK. PLEASE TELL ME IF I SHOULD CONTINUE.THANK YOU :)  
  
Children of the Digidestined:  
  
Mona Ichijouji- Yolei and Ken 's daughter 12  
  
Duncan Kamiya- Kari's son 12  
  
Lilith Izumi- Izzy's daughter 10  
  
Tyler Techenouchi- Sora's son 11  
  
Josh Kido- Joe's son 11  
  
Andrew Tachikawa- Mimi's son 10  
  
Travis Ishida- T.K.'s son 10  
  
David Motomiya-Davis's son 12  
  
Ben Kamiya- Tai's son 9  
  
Trisha Iora- Cody's daughter, 10  
  
Vicky Ichijouji jr. – Ken and Yolei's son, 8  
  
Dane Ishida- Matt's son, 10  
  
Yolei and Ken's baby- Danny  
  
Tale of the Dark Digidestined  
  
Prologue  
  
Peace.  
  
Peace stood upon the silent Odeiba night. Not a sound crept along the streets. No bird sang even though it was a lovely summer evening. No cricket chirped, no frog croaked as the fog seeped into the streets.  
  
No one could have seen where it was coming from, because no one was awake. Slowly, it covered every corner, every alley, and even the deepest dept of the sewers. The few night critters that were awake tried to run from it, but couldn't. Instead, they found the closest gap or crevice and hid, trembling as the fog drifted by, carrying with it fear that pierced every nervous heart. Everywhere it's been, something died, ceased breathing in the peaceful, peaceful Odeiba night.  
  
~*~  
  
Yolei Ichijouji woke with a start. She turned, trying to get more comfortable beside her husband, and found herself drenched in cold sweat. The covers felt extra heavy on top of her. As quietly as possible, she lifted it off, trying not to disturb Ken. The bedroom they shared felt like it was thick with heat and invisible smoke. Something hung in the air that she couldn't quite put her finger on.  
  
She checked the clock radio on the nightstand next to the bed. 3:24 a.m. Sunrise was still hours away and no light, not even from a streetlamp, came in through the window. It was so quiet in the room. So why was she awake? Her heart wanted to be nervous but she told herself she wouldn't be. After a few minutes of debating, she decided to check on the children. Carefully, she slid off of the bed, put on her slippers and went into the hall.  
  
Her oldest daughter Mona's room door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open just far enough to peek in. The girl was sleeping soundlessly, her dark hair hanging half way off the bed. Next to her arm, underneath the covers, slept her Poromon with just the feather on its head sticking out. The two made a perfect picture.  
  
Yolei pulled the door close and went down the hall to the next room, where her son Vicky slept. Unlike his sister, young Vicky moved quite a bit in his sleeping. Even before she opened the door entirely, Yolei could her Vicky turning and thrashing, kicking off his covers then pulling them on again. Next to his bed was a basket lined with blankets and ratty pillows. Inside, his partner Minomon was sleeping serenely. She had Ken had felt that it was good to have the kids' digimon partners with them until they're older. She had to admit she hated leaving Wormmon and Hawkmon in the digital world.  
  
Finally, feeling a little better, Yolei went to the living room, where her and Ken's six-month-old baby Danny. Even before she reached the crib, Yolei felt something was wrong. Danny's Leafmon wasn't sleeping, but sitting in a corner of the crib, as if trying to pull itself as far away from the baby as possible. When it spotted her, it uttered a small whimper and drew back even more. A shudder ran through her body as she approached the crib one step at a time, afraid of what she might find.  
  
Danny was awake. His eyes were open but not seeing. As his mother stood next to the crib he turned his head to her but didn't even blink, as if looking right through her. His little hands were clenched tightly that if his nails were long enough they'd be embedded in his soft palms. His mouth moved as if he's trying to scream, but no sound came out. The skin on his face was turning a shade of blue as if he was choking. His small chest rose and lowered with labored breathing.  
  
Yolei felt as if she was about to go insane as she picked up her baby and tried her best to find out what's wrong. He felt so cold and limp against her, like a bag of ice cubes.  
  
"Ken!" She shrieked. "Oh god! Ken!"  
  
~*~  
  
Ken Ichijouji was hearing voices again.  
  
They've been talking to him for the past month, stalking him, whispering to him in his sleep. Sometimes he feared he was going mad, but then he would hear his own voice above the others.  
  
Then, last week, his own voice started to talk back to him. Except it wasn't really his own. It was the sharp, commanding voice of a twelve-year- old. It spoke to him, ordering him to kneel and be slaved. In his dreams, the voice of the boy was always near, but just beyond reach. Each word spoken by that voice was filled with hate and pain.  
  
It was the voice of the Digimon Emperor.  
  
It was speaking to him again tonight, more clearly than ever. "I will be reborn, Ken," it said. "I am back. You can't banish me forever, Ken... Ken... Ken..."  
  
"Ken!" He sat up so fast he nearly twisted his back. This was no dream. Someone was calling him. Yolei!  
  
"Ken!" The call came again. It was definitely Yolei. There was something about her voice that made him nervous. Something's desperately wrong.  
  
Still half asleep, he got off the bed and ran out to the living room. His wife was standing there, still in her pajamas, holding Danny tightly and babbling incoherently. Vicky had awaken and was standing there rubbing his eyes in confusion. Ken looked at Yolei, then at the baby she held, and instantly understood.  
  
Quickly, he rushed forward and took Danny from Yolei. The child was barely breathing and unnaturally cold. He grabbed a blanket from the crib and wrapped it around the baby.  
  
"Call an ambulance," he said to Yolei, who didn't move. "Go!" As she hurried for the phone, Ken began to rub his son all over, rocking him, trying to sooth and warm him, but even as he did so, he knew it was doing no good. Danny suddenly drew a deep breath and shuddered violently.  
  
"Come on, honey," he mumbled. "Don't give up on me. Come on..." He was barely aware that Vicky was standing next to him, watching with fearful eyes as Danny went completely limp in his hands.  
  
~*~  
  
When they came and took her brother to the hospital, Mona was home, alone. The rest of the family had went and left her a note, thinking she's asleep. But she wasn't. Lately, she hadn't needed much sleep to sustain herself.  
  
When the house was quiet again, Mona flipped the covers back and sat up. The Poromon next to her didn't even stir. Silently, moving like a phantom, she went to the window and looked outside. The fog was thick, and seemed to glow violet under the moonlight. It would disperse in the morning, she knew, but tomorrow night it will be back again.  
  
"And so it begins," she said quietly into the night.  
  
Ch. 1 Mona Ichijouji  
  
Vicky raised his little hand and knocked on his sister's door. There was no response for a long time so he knocked again. Through the door, he heard an exasperated sigh, followed by an unfriendly "what do you want?"  
  
"Mona?" he said carefully.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did you know what happened to Danny?" There was no sound, then the door opened a smidge, showing his sister's eyes. Part of him noticed that she wasn't wearing her glasses, but most of him was taken back by the hard, cold look in her eyes.  
  
"Yes." If looks could kill...  
  
"Do you know what happened?" Vicky was getting uncomfortable. Lately, his sister had kept to herself a lot and been hostile toward everyone. His mother said it was just been a pre-teen, but he knew that wasn't it.  
  
Mona cocked her head. "Am I supposed to care?"  
  
"Don't you?" Vicky was surprised. Something about Mona had changed. No matter what his parents said, he knew something wasn't right.  
  
"What do you think?" The door slammed in his face before he could answer, leaving the baffled boy standing there, near tears.  
  
~*~  
  
Mona closed the door and locked it tightly. How dare that KID bother her with such trivial things like that useless baby? She double checked the lock and turned back to what she was doing before the rude interruptions.  
  
Poromon was lying on the floor of her room. His feather was matted and blotchy from Mona's "training". As he watched the girl open her closet and pull out a small whip, horror filled his eyes.  
  
"Are you ready to continue, my pet?" The voice was sweet and dripping with poison.  
  
"No," he whispered. "No more, please." The whip came down hard, leaving a new bloody mark. Poromon cried out in pain and tucked his little wings in, trembling.  
  
"Wrong answer," Mona said coldly. "Now then, what do you say, little bird?"  
  
"Thank you, Mona," the weak digimon whimpered, and received another hit.  
  
"That's not right, Poromon, and you know it." Another hit. "Let's repeat that, shall we? CORRECTLY this time. I'd hate to think all that training had gone to waste."  
  
Poromon swallowed thickly. "Thank you, my mistress," he said, barely audible. Mona raised the whip and he winced, anticipating the strike.  
  
"Louder, please."  
  
"Thank you, my mistress," Poromon cried with everything he had left in him, which wasn't much.  
  
"Very good, pet." Another hit landed on him. "Do you understand what the whipping is for?"  
  
"My own good, my mistress."  
  
"You're learning, excellent." This hit was harder than all the previous. Poromon cried out again, but it came out as no more than a muffled croak.  
  
Mona tucked the whip back into the closet, and pulled out a first aid box. She began to treat the small digimon's wounds. "We have a lot of work to do, Poromon. It wouldn't do to have you hurt on the job, now would it?" She kept talking as if nothing happened. When all the wounds have been cleaned and bandaged, she laid Poromon on her bed, then turned and left the room without looking back.  
  
She didn't see the tears in Poromon's eyes, nor did she care to.  
  
~*~  
  
Ken wasn't aware of much anymore. He wanted to put his face in his hands and be lost in the darkness, but each time he closed his eyes all he could see was Danny, cold and still, drawing his last breath. His son had died in his hands. It was a hard fact for a father to accept.  
  
The station had given him some time off, even though he would have preferred to be working and taken his mind off of the tragedy. But what can he accomplish, really? So he's here, at home, comforting his mourning wife and stunned children.  
  
His best friends for the past twenty years, Davis Motomiya and Takeru Ishida, still T.K. to his friends, were at his home, doing their best to comfort him. They sat in the very room where Danny was lost, and chatted as relaxed as possible, trying to ease the tension. It made him feel a little better to know they were around, but not enough. Kari Kamiya had dropped by earlier and taken Yolei out for some air, which was probably a good idea, seeing all she could do at home was cry or sit in a stupor.  
  
"How are you holding up?" Davis asked. Even though he's well past thirty, he still had his boyish looks and sense of humor. Right now, however, he was dead serious.  
  
"OK, I suppose," Ken answered simply, unable to think of anything else.  
  
"You need to hold together," T.K. said sternly. "You still have two other children, not to mention Yolei, depending on you. You can't fall apart."  
  
Ken smiled weakly. "I won't," he said. "I guess I just need time to accept it."  
  
No one said anything for a while. Davis looked out the window at the streets. "The fog last night..." he said uncertainly. "Did it strike anyone else as weird?"  
  
The others looked at him for a moment. "Actually," T.K. said. "Yes."  
  
"Felt familiar, didn't it?" Ken said, sitting up a little. "I thought it was just me."  
  
"You know what it feels like..." Davis said, still looking outside. "You're going to think I'm crazy when I say this."  
  
"Myotismon's fog?" T.K. cut in. "That day he came for Kari. The entire city was covered in his fog."  
  
"But it can't be," Davis cried a little too loudly, as if trying to convince the others as well as himself. "This is so strange."  
  
Ken looked at his friends. "I've been hearing voices," he said.  
  
~*~  
  
Kari reached across the cafe table and held her friend's hand. It was cold and clammy, a sign of fear and tension. She sighed.  
  
"Yolei, you need to be strong," she said. "You need to take care of your family still."  
  
Yolei gazed back at her. Her face was sickly pale. "I know," she said weakly. "I know that, but... Oh Kari, the way he was struggling in the end, it was horrible!" She put her hands over her face and sobbed.  
  
"These things happen, Yolei," Kari was trying her best not to let her own tear fall. "Infants die all the time. It's not pretty, but it's a fact of life, and we need to learn to move on."  
  
Yolei dropped her hands and looked emptily down at the cup of untouched coffee in front of her. "You don't understand, Kari," she said. "There was something about the way he died. It wasn't just crib death, it wasn't. It was like something was struggling to take him away from me, and he was... fighting it. But he lost... Oh god, you think I'm crazy don't you?"  
  
The words chilled Kari all the way from head to toes. She took a deep breath and decided to tell the truth.  
  
"Yolei," she said. "Did you see the fog last night?"  
  
~*~  
  
Mona sat on a bench in the park, her laptop computer out in front of her. As her fingers flew across the keyboard, tapping, planning, she was oblivious to the world. The park annoyed her, with its screaming children, buzzing insects, and wet grass, but here, no one bothered her, especially no her little brother, while she drew out her plans.  
  
The time was near, and she wanted to be ready when it comes. It's two o'clock in the afternoon, but the sky was dark and murky. No sun shun through the thick black clouds. On this eerie day, the playground was empty. No children and digimon roamed the area. They all seemed to have gone into hiding in case the heavy clouds happen to fall.  
  
Mona liked to think that they hid because of her.  
  
Her power was growing. Although she's not sure how long it will take before it matures, she already knew she was more powerful than anyone around her. She had only slept two hours last night, but her body was brimming with energy, ready to go. Unlike the rest of the fools on this planet, she was special.  
  
The screen of the computer flashed from one image to the next as Mona zipped through hyperspace, searching through the databank of the digital world. For a common person, the pictures on the computer were changing way to fast for the eye, but Mona was anything but common. She registered every bit of information she needed in her brain and moved on to the next place.  
  
"Heads up!" Mona looked up just in time to see a soccer ball fly at her face. She dodged but it was too late. It crashed into her hard and she heard a soft "crunch". Her glasses flew off of her face and landed in the grass.  
  
"Hey, are you OK? Sorry about that." It was a boy about her age, followed by a little DemiVeemon. He had bushy brown hair and wore a pair of old goggles on his head. Mona recognized him as David Motomiya. The boy bent down and picked up the glasses and handed them to her. The DemiVeemon hopped onto his head. "Sorry," he said again. "You're bleeding, you want me to go get somebody?"  
  
Mona took her glasses and tried her best to force a sweet smile. "No problem," she said, knowing well that her nose was broken. She wiped the fresh blood onto her sleeve. "I'll be fine. I have stuff to do."  
  
David looked at her nose, which was practically gushing and bent unnaturally to one side. "Um, you sure? Shouldn't you go to a hospital?"  
  
A hard look came to Mona's eyes. "I said I'm fine."  
  
The boy shrugged. "OK, as long as you're fine," he said and ran off with his ball.  
  
"You're a klutzy, David," the little digimon perched on his head said.  
  
"Oh hush."  
  
Mona watched him disappear into the distance, then set her laptop down on the bench. The glasses were broken, but not beyond repair. Not that it mattered. Her perfect eyesight was one of the advantages of her powers. Once terribly near-sighted, her eyes had begun healing as she became stronger. Now, she could see farther and in greater detail than anyone on earth, and then some. But no one had to know, it was one of her many secrets.  
  
She cupped both hands on her crushed nose and closed her eyes. Several minutes passed. Anyone who walked by would have thought she was praying. But when she opened her eyes and dropped her hands, there was no sign of the incident. The bone had set itself right and no blood fell from the skin that was now clean and smooth. Her face, which just a minute ago resembled a car wreck, was fresh as a daisy. Mona gazed in the direction that David went and a cold frown twisted her forehead.  
  
"Soon," she said. "You will die for committing an offense such as that." She tapped at the computer again, this time brining up the government files on the battles with various digimon, fought by the digidestined. She searched through them bit by bit, until something suddenly caught her attention.  
  
"Izzy Izumi?" she said to herself. The network of the Izumi computer denied her access as she tried to open its files. The protection code was stronger than anything she had encountered before. "Someone's got a secret."  
  
~*~  
  
Poromon was lying on the floor of Mona's room, feeling the pain racking him both inside and out. The wounds from the whipping she'd received earlier were burning like acid on his skin, but that was minor. The pain in his heart hurt a lot more.  
  
Mona had changed. Whatever it was that made her this way was near, breathing down his back like a wild beast.  
  
He ached to tell someone what's happening, but who could he tell? Who was going to believe that sweet little Mona was... evil? Was that the right word? He couldn't think of any other ways to describe her. The way she looked at him, the way she hit him, insulted him, even tortured him.  
  
Poromon shuddered. Torture. Gods, the torture. There's a very thin rim of burned skin around his beak. Mona had held a lighter to his face and singed the skin bit by bit until there was a perfectly even rim. She had done it with such cold concentration that one would think she was carving an unfeeling diamond.  
  
And then there was the time he hung up side down all night with tape over everything but his nose. He couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't speak. If he struggled, he could run out of breath and suffocate. Mona had told him it was to hone his patience, saying a good slave is patient no matter what the situation.  
  
Then there's the box. This one was purely a game for her. There's a cardboard box underneath her bed. It was old and full of tiny holes on the side. Whenever it struck her mood, she would put Poromon into the box and close the lid. Sometimes he would sit in there for hours, fearing something bad would happen. When she's wanted more fun, however, she would stick pins into the holes, one at a time, to see how long before he screams. There are numerous little punctures on his sides.  
  
And the whip. He had watched her construct the whip on her ninth birthday, drilling a little hole on a wooden stick and inserting the little strip of leather through it, then trimming the edges until it was smooth. She had said it was a birthday present to herself, that it was a toy that will last for ages.  
  
That was when his "training" started. Now, his "training" included a whipping each day. Sometimes more, sometimes less. When the whipping was severe, usually due to his own disobedience, Mona would heal him afterwards, but her healing powers were rough and crude, or perhaps she chose to it that way. The healing only covered the wounds on the surface, leaving him to deal with the pain that would still follow all night long. He knew well that she only did it so no one else will suspect the way she treats him.  
  
That was also when her "powers" started to develop. Countless time, he watched her come home with scrapes and scratches, ones that would leave nasty lifelong scars on some people. But on Mona, they only last a few minutes. Whenever this happened, she would sit on the floor, not moving, for a while, and her skin would knead themselves in front of Poromon's eyes. It was scary, watching her patch herself up with eerie silence.  
  
He still slept in her bed, mostly because she forces him to. All night long, she would be awake, talking eerily to him about her plans. It made him shudder in feel to see her eyes glow with angry ambition in the night.  
  
Footsteps.  
  
Poromon withdrew into a corner and thought about hiding under the bed, but decided against it. If Mona finds him, and she always does, the whipping will be harder.  
  
The door opened. Poromon drew a hard breath, but let it out in relief when he saw Vicky standing there, looking in carefully. He bounced over to Vicky with a friendly, carefree smile. Mona had ordered him to greet all visitors as such, or there will be a price to pay.  
  
Vicky looked at him. "Poromon?" he said. "Is Mona here?"  
  
Poromon kept the smile up. "Nope," he said. "She went out."  
  
"Oh." For some reason, the boy seemed relieved. He stepped into the room and sat on Mona's bed. "Do you think she's been a little weird lately?"  
  
You have no idea, Poromon thought bitterly. "Not really, why?"  
  
"Must just be me, then," Vicky said. "See you later." He stood up and walked out without another word.  
  
~*~  
  
Thankfully, there was no whipping that day. Yet. As soon as Mona came home, she sat at the computer, tapping, clicking none stop, oblivious to everything including her digimon. Poromon watched nervously as she sat there, unmoving except for the rapidly flying fingers. He had asked what happened to her glasses and she had answered with a simple "they broke" and went back to work.  
  
"What are you doing, Mona?" Poromon asked carefully when he felt he was going to go crazy listening to the tapping.  
  
The tapping stopped as Mona turned to him slowly with a hard look that he knew all too well in her eyes. He shrunk back, trying to make himself invisible, something he did a lot these days. She smiled, but there were no kindness or humor in it.  
  
"Did we forget out lesson already, Poromon?" she asked slowly, with just a hint of warning.  
  
"No, my mistress," he whimpered.  
  
"I think you have," Mona said, as if not hearing him. "I think we need to double our training today, don't you?"  
  
Poromon trembled at that word. "No, please..."  
  
"That will earn you five extra lashes, my pet," her voice was so steady she might as well have been commenting on the weather. Reaching behind the back, Mona turned off the computer. Her desk has a locked drawer. She pulled out a key from her pocket and opened it. Poromon watched as her hand disappeared inside it and reappeared with an object. "I have something special for you today." She brandished the objects in front of him.  
  
It was a riding crop.  
  
With his whole body shaking with fear, Poromon tried his best to anticipate the oncoming pain.  
  
"Duncan let me borrow this," Mona said. She ran her finger along the crop, caressing it as if it were a rare gem. Her eyes followed its length slowly, admiring it. "He rides horses, you know. Ugly beasts, if you ask me, but he's a strange boy. I don't question his antics and he doesn't question mine." Her eyes lifted from the crop and turned to him. A smirk appeared on her face. "Oh I'm sorry, listen to me prattle on while you're waiting with such patience."  
  
Poromon looked up for a split second, just in time to see the riding crop come slamming down. The sting was much stronger than the poorly made whip in Mona's closet. He didn't dare cry out, fearing to be punished with more lashes.  
  
"You forget to thank me, Poromon," Mona said flatly, bringing the crop to her chest and caressing it again. "But no matter. You don't have to thank me today. I'm in a rather good mood."  
  
Poromon sighed gratefully.  
  
"But that's a privilege, my pet, and privileges don't come cheap. Shall we say... five extra lashes?"  
  
Poromon did not protest. Mona smiled and the training went on.  
  
~*~  
  
Vicky sat on his bed cradling Minomon in his arms. Neither of the two spoke a word. Occasionally Minomon tried to get his friend to cheer up a little, but Vicky refused to say a word. He simply sat there, rocking lightly back and forth, as if in a trance. Every now and then an odd sound came from his sister's room. It sounded like a snap, the way a firecracker would go off, but Vicky, with his innocent, eight-year-old mind, could not figure out why his sister would set off a firecracker in her room.  
  
Nor did he want to ask. Even though he'd never told anyone, not even Minomon, he knew that he was afraid of his sister. Recently, everything about her scared him. Sometimes he'd wake up at night and feel her in the next room. Except it wasn't his sister anymore, it was a monster, and each time he woke, he'd be convinced the monster was coming for him.  
  
"Do you hear that sound?" Minomon mumbled. Vicky simply nodded. "What do you think it is?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Do you wanna go look?" Minomon began to wriggle out of his arms.  
  
"No!" He cried. His digimon looked at him, startled. "Don't go look, Minomon, never go look."  
  
"Are you gonna look?"  
  
"No, Minomon. I don't wanna go look. Mona... Mona will get mad. She doesn't like me in her room."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I dont' know. She'll get mad. Just don't go into her room, OK?" Vicky held his digimon tighter, as if afraid to lose his partner and friend.  
  
"OK, OK. I won't." Mino settled down again. "I don't get it. What can she do anyway?"  
  
She could kill me, Vicky thought, remembering the look in her eyes when he went to ask about Danny. I've never told anyone this and I don't think I ever will, but I think she would kill me.  
  
~*~  
  
The Izumi computer's security code was tightly weaved, not sparing a single detail. Mona threaded her way through each line, decoding and careful to erase her tracks. Whatever was in the network was obviously important, and most likely related to the digital world. Even though the two worlds are on a free-access basis, much remain secluded, for the same reason the government keeps secrets from its people. This was big, and she could feel it in her bones. The hard the code was, the more she was drawn to it. She knew all about Izzy's role in digimon research, and his part in the initial digital world exploration. Now, she was coming up on something great, something that could change her life and put her plans into action.  
  
"Access: Denied," the laptop beeped. Mona sighed, erased her electronic tracks, and began to try another way in. She was in no way discouraged. Challenges excited her, especially one with such fruitful promises.  
  
Another route finally proved successful two hours later. The laptop screen confirmed access into Izzy Izumi's private research files. Lists of documents appeared, some labeled with names, others with codes and dates that Mona didn't understand. Most of the documents contained the very first encounters with the digital world. Apoclymon, Dark Masters, and such. Mona already knew most of this information, but she scanned them into her disks to go over later. Something caught her eye. She clicked on one of the files with an earlier date and brought up several graphic documents.  
  
They revolved around a humanoid digimon dressed in what looked like a blue uniform and a black cape. From the up close photos, the digimon seemed to have light blue skin and fangs like those of a vampire. It wore a red mask shaped like a bat. To Mona, the digimon looked quite handsome, with streaky blond hair and metallic blue eyes that shun with devilish intelligence. The pictures showed the digimon standing over several other digimon, presumably his servants, and giving them orders. More showed it attacking groups of panicked people with what looked like flocks and bats and red lightning. There was also one photo of its evolved form, apparently a Mega taller than the largest building in Tokyo, smashing the city to pieces.  
  
She took a loathing look at the shivering pink puffball on her bed, then went back to admiring her newly discovered prize. Now that's a worthy partner, she thought.  
  
She read the text that came with the photos. The digimon's name was Myotismon. During the first encounter with the digital world, Myotismon came to earth to search for the eighth digidestined child, who is... Kari Kamiya? Hmmm, Duncan will find this interesting. Hundreds of children were captured and questioned. Odeiba was surrounded in fog for days. Mona remembered the darkness's fog from the night Danny died. Myotismon evolved to Venom Myotismon and was defeated by the digidestined. Mona gritted her teeth at this and kept reading.  
  
The second half of the text pleased her greatly. Apparently Myotismon manipulated many people and digimon four years later after his first defeat and nearly succeeded in taking over both worlds, which was what brought the worlds together in the first place. Mona knew most of this, also, but she did not know that Myotismon had done so much, as was so close to winning. He was indeed a great digimon and would be a much more fitting partner for her than that little pink runt.  
  
One of the most powerful of Myotismon's unsuspecting henchmen was someone called the Digimon Emperor, apparently a mere child her age, but had succeeded in dominating the digital world entirely until the digidestined interfered. This file took more hacking to get into and was protecting above all. There was only one shot of the Digimon Emperor, a boy about twelve or thirteen at the most, wearing an outfit composed of what looked like an army general's uniform and cape that Mona deemed impressive. He was holding a long whip and wore blue glasses that hid his eyes. To Mona, he seemed like someone who had the right idea. However, this was the first time she had ever heard of this person. No one ever discussed anything about this boy who, according to this, ruled the digital world for at least two and a half years.  
  
Perhaps I'll seek him out, this Digimon Emperor, she thought. Maybe he'll help me, give me some ideas so I can pick up where he left off. But there was still one question: Why was he kept a secret?  
  
~*~  
  
"So you hear the voice of your old self," said Davis thoughtfully. "What could that mean?"  
  
"Everything or nothing," said T.K. "Ken could simply be in a rut, or this has some significant meaning that we're not getting."  
  
Ken looked at his friends. They had not taken his talk about the voices lightly. Instead, they turned dead serious and began to analyze it in depth. All this frightened him. He had halfway hoped that they would joke about it, tease him, and make him feel totally ridiculous about brining it up in the first place. But none of that had happened. This simply confirmed his fear that something was terribly, terribly wrong.  
  
"The fog," T.K. was saying, "it was almost exactly like the one Myotismon used, which doesn't make sense since he was the only one able to create such a fog. But since he isn't around, someone else has to be behind it."  
  
"Could it be another digimon?" Davis asked. "I mean, if Myotismon was powerful enough to do something like that, then surely he's not the only one. There are plenty of digimon more powerful than Myotismon in the digital world."  
  
"But we're not sure whether it's an abnormal fog yet. For all we know, it could just be a regular fog, and we're blowing it way out of proportion."  
  
Ken, unsure of how to cut in, turned to look out the window. And froze. He reached over stiffly and tapped T.K. on the shoulder, interrupting him.  
  
"What is it, Ken?"  
  
Ken didn't answer, but continued to stare out the window. "Does anyone else see that?" he asked numbly.  
  
Outside, tendrils of purple were drifting in the air, slowly thickening, expanding. It was the fog, but it was darker. Everywhere it touched the glass of the window, a faint mark was left, like the bloody fingerprint of a murderer. It would stay there a moment, then fade away to be replaced by a new one.  
  
"If evil's got a color, that's it," said Davis, as if in a daze. The words shocked his friends when they remembered when they were last said—so many years ago, in the shattered base of the Digimon Emperor.  
  
Somewhere in the distance, they could see a thick ball of violet gas, writhing in the air. Its color deepened, until it looked like a rip in space. Then it lightened up and disappeared. A minute later, the rest of the fog also vanished. The air was clear and crisp as if nothing had happened. But there were prints on the window, still lingering. The three men had an uneasy feeling that the tainted window was watching them through its many purple eyes.  
  
"That's no fog," T.K. stated what the others already knew. Images flashed in his head, threatening to pound his sanity flat. Devimon... Patamon... Angemon... losing... losing... never again...  
  
Davis saw himself, merely eight years old and scared to death in the convention center Myotismon had seized. There were ghostly digimon floating all about him. Every now and then, they stopped and poked the kids randomly simply for fun. There was one who particularly liked touching him, feeling him with its cold, deathly fingers...  
  
Ken saw the very last he was in his old base. He and the other digidestined stood at the gateway to darkness, with Paildramon and MegaKuangamon fighting outside. The gate, which was shaped like a dead tree tangled with slimy twine, was glowing an unnatural color, the same color as the fog. 


	2. Duncan Kamiya

Ch.2 Duncan Kamiya  
  
The stables were warm and dry. Dust and heat lingered in the air, along with the smell of hay and horse dung. Sunlight poured in though the gaps in the wooden roof, lighting the dirty floor below. Duncan Kamiya loathed this place, however, this was where he spent most of his time, fondling the horses lovingly, making sure at least five people were watching.  
  
He was a state champion, quite well known in the riding community. Not many riders in Odeiba didn't know of the young Kamiya, winner of the past three state competitions, with the last two victories resulting in second- and third- place in nationals. His form was called "elegant" and "impeccable" by the judges, and his style was perhaps one of the best seen in Odeiba riding history. The walls of his rooms were covered with shelves filled with his medals and trophies, right along side with pictures of him hugging his horses and laughing with glee. Every time someone saw him in the streets, they would say, "there's a boy who really loves horses."  
  
But he and only he knew how fake those smiles were. He didn't love horses. He didn't even like them much. When his mother had first suggested the riding lessons to him, he had opposed drastically, dead set against been near any of the dumb beasts. Finally, after much deliberation, he agreed to give it a try.  
  
As it turned out, he liked it greatly, must to his mother's delight. However, it wasn't due to any of the reasons other people thought. He liked it because he had his own reasons. He enjoyed dominating the horses and manipulating them to do his command. Soon he was riding at a level above all his peers and became a small local celebrity. His mother had hugged him and told him how proud she was after his first victory. She had showered him with affection that sickened him to the stomach. But he had stood it, with the same innocent smile that he stood everything else. There was no points in letting anyone know how he had really won those shows and races, just like there was no point in having them all know who he really was. Not sweet little rider Duncan Kamiya, but much more.  
  
He strolled in the stables slowly. The local competition starts in one hour. This was this favorite time and thing to do nowadays: to be left alone before the competitions to roam the stables, having everyone think he was spending quality time with his horses, prepping them as well as himself.  
  
Of course, he himself never needed preparation. He was always prepared to stomp his opponents flat. And truthfully, he was prepping his horses, just not in the traditional way.  
  
Of the six stables, only one was occupied. The horse inside was of a solid chestnut color with firm muscles and a long majestically mane. This was Duke, Duncan's horse. He was a beautiful animal, looking like he just stepped out from an oil painting of the countryside. Anyone who laid eyes on Duke saw him as a brave creature, one that stormed the battlefield like rumbling thunder.  
  
At one time, that may have been the case. As Duncan pushed open the stable gates and stepped in, the horse let out a mewling whine that might as well have been from a starving dog beaten within an inch of its life. Duncan looked at the horse steadily for a minute, a cold sneer on his face. The toe of his riding boots tapped once, twice, and Duke, like a servant scared into obedience, came forward slowly. Duncan unclipped a riding crop from his belt and tapped it in his palm, still keeping his eyes on the horse.  
  
"So, are you ready to compete, boy?" He asked. The horse stood there nervously. Duncan raised the crop and the large animals actually twitched. The crop came down fast but stopped in mid air. The horse moaned as Duncan tapped it lightly on the shoulder. "That would hurt, boy if I wanted it to. And you don't want to get hurt, do you? No. Good. Then you definitely don't want to lose. Because losers get hurt." The riding crop was clipped back onto the belt. Reaching into the pocket of his pants, Duncan pulled out a small switchblade. With a click, the blade popped out, gleaming in the sun. The horse stepped back upon the sight of it. Duncan moved forward swiftly and seized its mane. He pulled Duke's head down hard, and brought the knife up with his other hand. A small nick was left on the horse's ear, dripping sticky crimson.  
  
"That's to mark our future victory," Duncan said coldly. "Don't disappoint me, Duke." He began to go for the other ear when a sound stopped him.  
  
Over the years, Duncan's hearing had become much sharper than a regular human's, perhaps even better than a cat's. If he concentrated hard, he make out the voices of people in a passing car, but at the moment, it didn't take much to hear the footsteps on the dirt road outside the stables. The switchblade disappeared in a blink of an eye. By the time Kari Kamiya stepped in, Duncan was cradling Duke's head gently, smiling and speaking encouraging words to him. His eyes drifted toward the door, as if seeing his mother for the first time.  
  
"Mom!" He cried, using his much-practiced, surprised voice.  
  
Kari smiled at her son. "I wanted to wish you good luck, sweetie," she said.  
  
"Thanks, mom, but I don't need luck. I've gonna win!"  
  
His mother went over to him and put her arm around his shoulder. "Better save than sorry."  
  
"Don't worry mom," Duncan said cheerily. "Even if I don't win, it's like you said, winning isn't everything, right?"  
  
Kari laughed and ruffled her son's brown hair. "You know, you're growing up way to fast."  
  
Duncan shrugged. His mother gave him a quick hug and left. He grinned and waved after her until she was safely out of sight. Then he turned back to Duke. "Got lucky that time, boy," he said coldly. "You better not count on that next time." Yanking the reins firmly, he pulled the horse out of the stables and out toward the competition field.  
  
It was time for another victory.  
  
~*~  
  
"AND NEXT UP IS OUR THREE-TIME STATE CHAMPION DUNCAN KAMIYA!!"  
  
The crowd cheered as he entered the performance field, riding Duke proudly and waving. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see his competing opponent swallow nervously. He cast a hard glance their way before beginning his routine, satisfied with the fact that several of them shrunk back.  
  
The routine was becoming almost boring to someone of his skills. He maneuvered Duke with ease, riding from one corner to the next smoothly, jumping over obstacles swiftly without a single mishap. Duke wouldn't allow mishaps. He knew the consequences well.  
  
Another cheer came from the audience as he successfully completed the last jump without a stumble. With a gracious smile on his face, he rode past the stands, waving to the people and taking special care to grin at his mother as he passed her. She wasn't the one who caught his attention, however. There was another person who sparked interest in him.  
  
In the corner of the stand, sitting alone was a girl about his age. She wasn't cheering, or even smiling. Instead, there was a cool, placid look on her face. Her expression was as unreadable as glass. It seemed like her only purpose for been there was to watch him, making sure he wasn't out of her sight. When the judging was over, Duncan began to head back to the stables. One look back at the stands showed that the girl was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
Duke's ear had stopped bleeding. Duncan reached out and brushed away the dried blood. That was the most he'd ever done for the brainless beast.  
  
"Not bad, Duke," he said. His brown eyes bore into Duke's and made the horse squirm. "Now pray that we won today, or you'll be one eye less before the sun sets."  
  
"Of course you won," a voice said. Duncan turned and saw the girl from the stands. He recognized her as Mona Ichijouji. Only she had hair so black it glowed blue under the sun. She was wearing a black top and jeans with the usual scarf wrapped around her hair. "You're Duncan Kamiya. You always win." Mona stepped into the stables, looked around, and wrinkled her nose. "Pleasant smell."  
  
"Hi, Mona," Duncan said with the same fake pleasantness he used on everyone. "Did you come to see the competition?"  
  
"You can drop the formalities with me, Duncan," Mona said. She didn't look at him, but went to the horse and scratched its nose. "I know how you win those things." Her voice dropped a notch. "I know who you really are."  
  
Duncan's whole demeanor changed in a second. He narrowed his eyes and felt his lips twist into a snarl. "Why are you here?" he demanded.  
  
Mona eyed him absently. "I came to see you, of course," she said lightly. "I need you to work with me when the time comes."  
  
An amused look came to Duncan's face. "What makes you think I will?"  
  
"Because we're special, you and I," Mona took a step closer to the boy, staring him down. "We've been chosen to serve."  
  
"Serve?" Duncan returned her glare. "Why would I want to serve anyone?"  
  
Mona sneered. "We're not going to serve some ONE, Duncan. We're going to serve a cause, and ourselves along the way. If you are who I think you are, you should know what I mean."  
  
Duncan smiled, a cold smile that was the exact opposite of the one from a minute ago. "Sure." He said. "I understand completely. You know, Mona, I didn't think you'd be one of us, but I guess I want wrong."  
  
"Oh I'm more than one of you," Mona said. Before Duncan could even react, Mona reached over and snatched the riding crop from his belt and held it in both hands. "I am the chosen leader, and I have big plans."  
  
"Whatever you say, Mona," Duncan said. "All I know is, when the time comes, I will be ready. Hopefully the others will, too, because I will not slow down for anyone to catch up."  
  
"I will see to it that they are," Mona studied the riding crop in her hand. "Mind if I borrow this? I need to discipline that little runt of mine."  
  
"Go ahead." Duncan began to walk out of the stable. "I take it you're using the same training method as me?"  
  
"For the moment, yes. But soon I will have a worthy partner."  
  
"Virus?"  
  
"Is there any other worthy digimon?" The children laughed. It was not a laugh of joking kids, but one of darkened hearts.  
  
The announcers outside were starting to declare the winners of the competition. "Time to go pick up my trophy," Duncan said, heading outside. He turned one last time at the door. "I take it you'll be speaking to the others as well."  
  
Mona was still studying the crop. "Of course. They have a right to know who will be giving orders when it finally starts."  
  
"You better hurry, then."  
  
"There's no need to worry. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither will the new empire be." They exchanged one last glance before Duncan disappeared outside.  
  
Mona stared after the boy, caressing the riding crop in her hand. "You'll do fine, Duncan," she said to herself. "I'll need a lieutenant, and you'll do just fine."  
  
~*~  
  
Yet another trophy was added to Duncan's collection. Although his mother raved about it all the way home, Duncan himself saw no significance to it. These were merely small, insignificant victories. He had bigger plans for the future. As far as he was concerned, the horse-riding competitions were merely a cover, a disguise for himself until the time comes to reveal the truth.  
  
The first sound heard when the door to their house opened was a shrill, happy squeal. A small Salamon raced out of the hall and charged toward Duncan. She pranced happily around him until bent down and picked her up.  
  
"Digja win?" she asked eagerly. Duncan showed her the trophy. "Yay!" she cheered.  
  
"I'll get dinner started," Kari said as she began to tie her long brown hair into a ponytail. "Tonight I'll be making something special."  
  
"OK, mom." Duncan headed inside, carrying Salamon and the trophy. "I'll be in my room." Even as he said those words, he felt the small digimon stiffen in his arms. Ignoring it, he entered his bedroom and closed the door, then checking to make sure it was locked. The Salamon promptly hopped off of him and cowered on the floor.  
  
"That was a commendable performance, Salamon," Duncan said as he set his trophy among all the others on a wall shelf.  
  
"Th-thank you, my master." The Salamon mumbled.  
  
"Do you know who I saw today?" Duncan said, as if talking to himself. "Mona Ichijouji. Apparently she's coming along quite well, just like me." Salamon trembled. "Now then, how are you today?"  
  
"I'm fine, master," Salamon said quietly, afraid to look at the brown- haired boy.  
  
Duncan looked at his cowering digimon and chuckled. "You're weak, Salamon. And that won't do at all."  
  
"Yes, master."  
  
"Do you like been weak?"  
  
"No, master."  
  
Without warning, Duncan reached out and hit the small digimon across the face, knocking her off her feet. For a moment Salamon laid there, unmoving, stunned. Duncan hit her again, harder this time. She lifted her head and hissed at him instinctively.  
  
"Very good. You're learning."  
  
Surprised, Salamon immediately hung her head again, expecting punishment for her insolence. She was so stupid! How could she have hiss at her master? Now he's going to hurt her again. She tucked her head into her chest and awaited to be struck.  
  
"You're showing weakness again, Salamon," Duncan's voice said. Another blow came at her. "Fight me, come on, fight me."  
  
Salamon rolled onto her back, away from the blow, and caught the oncoming fist with her teeth and bit down at the first sign of flesh. The metallic taste of fresh blood flooded her mouth. She shook her head, trying to clear it.  
  
"Swallow it," Duncan ordered. Salamon was hesitant, but the taste of blood awakened something in her. A pink tongue came out of her mouth and licked her lips. The salty taste, the red liquid, the excitement! She gulped. The fluid rolled down her throat like sweet, tantalizing syrup.  
  
Duncan smiled despite the deep wound on his hand. His digimon laid on the floor with a swelling bruise on her side, licking her lips of his blood. Slowly, he bent down and extended the bleeding hand to her. Her eyes sparked at the flowing crimson. A moment later, she had attached herself to his hand, drinking hungrily.  
  
"Very good, my pet," Duncan said lovingly as he stroke Salamon with his free hand. "Do you enjoy it?"  
  
Salamon looked up at her master. Her expression had changed from pitiful fear to an angry greed. "Yes, my master, yes!"  
  
Duncan withdrew his hand and shoved the Salamon aside. "That's enough for today," he said flatly.  
  
Salamon was shaking with excitement. "No, master! Please! Give me more!"  
  
"Patience, Salamon. There will be more. Soon you will have all your heart desires."  
  
~*~  
  
The ringing of the telephone woke Duncan up early in the morning. He laid there awake, listening to his mother speak frantically.  
  
"Oh, Yolei! That's terrible. No, don't worry, I'll be right over. OK, just keep it together. I'll be right here. Bye."  
  
The bedroom door opened as Duncan managed a concerned face even though he couldn't care less about what had happened at Mona's place. His mother went to his bedside, a weary expression on his face.  
  
"What's wrong, mom? Is Mona OK?"  
  
"Mona's fine, honey," His mother said. "I need to over to their place. I'll tell you about it when I come home, OK? Think you can manage your own breakfast?"  
  
Duncan smiled. "Sure, mom."  
  
His mother leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be call if I have to stay until after lunch. Bye, hon." She rushed out and closed the door. Duncan counted the minute until he heard the front door close, then sat up and got dressed promptly. Salamon crawled out from under the bed while he was putting on his boots. Her eyes had taken on a strange red shade over the night.  
  
"She'sssss gone?" Salamon hissed. Her voice had taken on an eerie hiss like that of a snake.  
  
"Yes, my pet," Duncan said. He pulled his switchblade out of his pocket and slid it smoothly across his palm, gritting his teeth against the pain as a deep cup appeared. He squeezed his hand until a thick puddle was cupped in his hand. He lowered it in front of Salamon. "Drink up."  
  
Salamon drank hungrily from his hand. Her face was smeared with red as she gulped down her master's blood, feeling the energy in her grow greatly. Every muscle in her body shook with ecstasy as the liquid slid down her throat. Duncan watched and smiled.  
  
Just as Salamon was losing herself in the drink, Duncan reached out and slapped her away. She shrieked angrily, extending her stubby claws and baring her teeth. Before Duncan could wipe his hand, she leaped on him and attacked, scratching and biting. Yesterday's timid little creature was entirely gone. Duncan threw her down hard on the floor and kicked her.  
  
Salamon screeched and laid on the floor, hissing and spitting furiously. Duncan kicked her again and she fell silent.  
  
"You mustn't forget who you serve, Salamon," Duncan said patiently. He didn't bother to clean his hand, which was striped with red and dripping slowly. "Now tell me, who do you serve?"  
  
Salamon groaned angrily. "I sssserve you, my massster," she hissed.  
  
"What are you, Salamon?"  
  
"I am your ssslave, massssster."  
  
"Good. Very good." Duncan leaned down and wiped his bloody hand across the toe of his right shoe. "Now, slave, if you want it, lick it off my boot."  
  
Salamon glared at the glistening liquid. A moan escaped her lips. She stumbled to her master's foot and began to lick.  
  
~*~  
  
The days wore on from that moment. Salamon wondered in between blood drinking and beating. Duncan seemed to enjoy using her newfound weakness to humiliate her, making her beg, scream, licking blood off his shoes every now and then, sometimes off the floor. But she didn't care. Why would she care? As long as there was sweet blood to drink, nothing else mattered. It was an addiction, a drug, an obsession that could no longer be helped. Whenever she could not have any, every cell in her body clamored for it.  
  
Duncan stood before her again, the switchblade in his hand. By now, the very sight of that knife made her tremble with excitement. She watched her master sink the blade into his hand and pull it out, watched the delicious red ooze out onto his palm, and down his arm.  
  
"Do you want to drink, slave?" He asked softly.  
  
"Yesss, yess, masster!" She hissed eagerly, her eyes never leaving the bloody trail.  
  
Duncan lowered his hand until it was inches in front of her. Salamon made a hungry sound and lunged for it. Just before her tongue could touch the luscious liquid, the hand went away. In front of her horrified eyes, her master closed his bloody hand tightly, and when he reopened it, the wound had closed roughly, leaving an angry red mark.  
  
"No, massssster," she hissed, pleading desperately. "Pleasssse. I need to drink."  
  
"You need to learn to resist temptation, pet," Duncan said slowly as he concentrated on his hand. The red mark was fading but very slowly. His skills left room for desire.  
  
"Massster, pleassssse," Salamon hissed pathetically. Never minding her pride, she crawled to his foot and nuzzled his shoe.  
  
"Temptation is a sign of weakness," Duncan glared at her disapprovingly. "I do not want you to be weak if we are to carry out our duty when the time comes."  
  
"But I need it, massster."  
  
"You need nothing. To need something is to leave yourself open to invasion. You'll do well to remember that, Salamon. Never 'need' anything that can be withheld from you."  
  
The small digimon didn't speak to that. Instead, she let out an angry howl and attacked her master. Duncan, obviously expecting this, stepped aside swiftly. Salamon missed and fell to the floor, but it failed to slow her even a bit. She turned and prepared to attack again, only to receive a hard blow in the face. Unwilling to give up, she leaped to her feet and charged again. This time Duncan caught her in midair, held her by neck with one hand and grasped one of her paws with the other. He twisted. Salamon heard the sickening squeak of bone bending against bone, followed by a bolt of pain. Then she was dropped, falling freely, pulled by gravity.  
  
For a few moments Salamon didn't move. She stayed in her position on the floor. Then she began to glow as energy and rage built in her. Duncan's expression turned into one of cold triumph as he pulled his digivice out of his pocket and aimed it at her. Dark light and power poured out at once, out of the digivice and human both.  
  
"Salamon! Dark digivolve!" he cried. Salamon tilted her head and howled.  
  
SALAMON DARK DIGIVOLVE TO... GATOMON!!  
  
When the light faded, Duncan saw a new digimon lying on the floor. It was a Gatomon, but quite different from his mother's partner. This Gatomon was black as the night all over. Its claws were abnormally longer and sharper. On its forehead was a yellow mark that resembled a lightning bolt, set right above its blood-red eyes. Pointy ears darted all over, searching for any sign of danger. A long, thin tail split in two at the end, like the forky tongue of a cobra. It wore a shiny silver ring on its tail. On it were engraved patterns that resembled miniature skulls.  
  
The black Gatomon raised her head as if in a daze, then turned her head slowly from one side to the next, studying her surroundings. Finally, her fire red eyes landed on Duncan. She slowly, carefully, got onto her feet and flexed her claws.  
  
"Not bad," Duncan said approvingly. "Not bad at all."  
  
The Gatomon gazed at him the way a hungry tiger gazed at its prey. She took a few steps forward and bared her teeth.  
  
"I will give you a new name," Duncan continued. "I will call you Dark Gatomon. My mother was an angel of light, they say, but I am not." He squatted down and stared the black Gatomon in the eyes. "I am a servant of darkness, as are you."  
  
A sneer crept onto the digimon's face.  
  
"You are a virus, are you not?"  
  
"Yes, master," the digimon hissed. Its voice was slightly deeper, but with a sharp clarity.  
  
"From vaccine to virus," Duncan was pleased with himself. "This simply goes to prove it can be done."  
  
Gatomon licked its lips hungrily.  
  
"Would you like to drink, my pet?" Duncan purred softly.  
  
The Gatomon's smile widened and Duncan saw that she had a pair of long fangs. "Yes, my master," she said. "I wish to drink."  
  
"Good. Tonight you will hunt. Should you be successful, you just may bring home a blood pet for us." Duncan stood and went to the window. A playground laid across the street. In the day, many kids and digimon were playing and shouting. Among them was a blue-haired boy with glasses, accompanied by a little brown Bukamon. They were sitting on the grass, watching the other children. Duncan turned to his new viral partner. "Feel like seafood?"  
  
WELL, WHAT DO YOU THINK? I didn't think that was very good. Did it sound a little forced? I hope not. Well, anyway... take a guess, is Josh good or bad? 


	3. Josh Kido

Ch. 3 Josh Kido  
  
The day was warm and mild, with a slight hint of moisture in the air. It was the idea condition to run and play, romping in the grass with bugs and digimon. In fact, that was what most children were doing. The playground was filled with shouts and laughter, mixed with the screeching of excited young digimon.  
  
On the edge of the playground, however, one child was not playing. A boy, little more than eleven years old, with limp blue hair, was sitting on a patch of dry grass, looking at the other kids with a watchful eye. Next to him sat a small, brown seal-like digimon. It was a timid Bukamon.  
  
The boy himself appeared shy and coy, and just a bit nerdy with his sweater, plain plants, and thick glasses. Nothing about him stood out in the crowd. If passed in the streets, he would be dismissed as the kid next- door, nothing special. The other children would look at him one minute and forget him the next. He looked like the kind of weak little boy bullies pick on in school and the wimpy, well-behaved mama's-boy that every parent with wild sons of their own would want. In the classroom, he would be eager to please. Everywhere else, he would be the common child, nobody's dream, and nobody's desire. Sometimes, he might as well not have a face, because not many people remember it anyway.  
  
But appearances can deceive. In Josh Kido's case, looking the way he did was an advantage. After all, no one can place a faceless criminal, and no one will ever suspect a shy boy with thick specs and a nervous demeanor. Which made things all the easier for him. Now, he sat and watched the other kids run and play. He couldn't play and never had any desire to play. He had asthma, but for him, that meant more time to not have to social with the others. So while the others ran and played and made friends, he sat and watched them, memorizing their personality, listening to their conversations, and figuring out their weaknesses.  
  
The other kids and adults took pity on him. Poor little Josh, can't have fun with the others. Poor little boy with asthma, just listen to him breathe. This, he could take. The weaker the others made him out to be, the easier it will be to lie to them, deceive them, and surprise them when the time comes.  
  
The truth was, he HAD asthma. When his powers began to develop, the disease had begun to melt away slowly, bit by bit. Everyday for four month now, he sat and meditated by himself while the rest of Odeiba slept. With each passing day, he could breath easier. Soon, he knew, he will be able to crush that aggravating inhaler to dust under his heel. But that wasn't important. He had to heal himself as fast as possible now, because the time draws near to take action, and he needed to be ready.  
  
A child on the playground shouted loudly, and all the others crowded around him. Josh watched them expressionlessly. Underneath his vacant mask, however, he was glaring at them with disgust. Occasionally one of the kids spoke to him, vaguely and half out of pity. He would answer pleasant while cursing them in his mind. He hated been pitied.  
  
"Loathsome, aren't they?" He said to the Bukamon next to him, still keeping his eyes on the children. "They run around like fools all day, unaware that their fate is getting grimmer by the minute."  
  
Bukamon simply nodded. He had learned not to speak, there's less chance of saying something wrong that way. And things aren't pleasant when you say something wrong around Josh.  
  
A glimmer sparked in Josh's eyes, hidden behind his glasses. "What do you say I play a little trick on them?" It wasn't much of a question.  
  
Bukamon blinked, hiding his fear well. That was another thing he had learned to do over the past few month. There was no point in showing how afraid he was of Josh's "little tricks". He had stopped trying to talk his partner out of them a long time ago. Now, he simply watched them, hoping Josh would come to his senses before anything bad happened.  
  
Well, more like anything worse. At the rate things were going, bad was a commonly used word.  
  
Josh, his eyes not leaving the group of kids, reached into his pocket. Slowly, he pulled out a small, shiny object. It was a silver lighter. With it clutched securely in his hand, Josh pushed himself off the grass and began to stroll casually away from the playground, his Bukamon following.  
  
"Hey Josh!" One of the kids called. "You're leaving?"  
  
Josh turned around with a pleasant smile on his face. "Yeah," he called back. "I'm a little tired. I think I'll go home."  
  
The boy who called to him shrugged and turned back to the games. Josh kept walking, keeping watch on them out of his peripheral vision until he was certain no one was watching him. Then, in a single movement, he slipped behind the thick trunk of an oak. His Bukamon, knowing well what was going to happen, bounded out of sight. With a twisted smile, Josh brought the lighter up to eye level and clicked it open. A small flame leaped out and wavered in front of him. He took one last look around and touched the flame to the tree. Then, without a second look back, he left the playground with big strides. Bukamon appeared out of a patch of bushes and followed him, not needing to look to feel the heat of the spreading flames and the surprised screams that rose a minute later.  
  
At least this time he didn't light one of the kids, Bukamon thought grimly.  
  
~*~  
  
Joe Kido was pulling another late night in the digital world.  
  
Been the first digimon doctor wasn't easy, especially with it been such a new healing technique. He'd taken on a few students, but training them took time, and for the moment, Joe had none of that. There were many digimon to treat in both worlds, and with him been the only eligible doctor, the phone never stopped ringing.  
  
Joe often felt guilty about going on so many late nights and leaving his son at home, but what could he do? Thank goodness Josh was so understanding when it came to his father's work. He never seemed to complain about been home alone and seemed to be able to take care of himself despite of his physical condition.  
  
Opening his medicine bag, he pulled out a cell phone and dialed his home number. His son's voice answered on the third ring.  
  
"Hello? Josh?" He said eagerly. "It's gonna be another late night. You mind getting yourself dinner?"  
  
"Sure, dad," Josh's voice was positively glowing. Must've been a good day. "No problem."  
  
"OK, son. Sorry about the carnival. I guess we'll go another time." Joe sighed to himself silently. He's broken too many promises to his son.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I don't feel like going out anyway. What time are you coming home, dad?"  
  
"Around eleven. I'll try for earlier, OK?"  
  
"OK." There was no disappointment, no whining, just like the way Josh always was—good and proper.  
  
"Alright. See you tonight, Josh."  
  
"Bye dad."  
  
Joe hung up, looked at the stack of appointments that Gomamon was busy sorting, and wished he could swipe it all into the trash and go to the carnival with his son.  
  
~*~  
  
Josh, however, was ecstatic. He had no desire to go to the carnival with his father. Instead, he had hoped for another late night. In fact, Josh and his lighter caused a certain number of the casualties that Joe was treating. Of course, nobody knew about that and nobody had to. Every one knows something about Josh Kido, but nobody had heard about Josh the firebug.  
  
But he was no ordinary firebug. While some kids gathered around in a loose circle, giggling and playing with the forbidden matches, Josh was in a corner of the library, lighting the edge of a book on fire, then putting it back into the shelf before leaving with a casual stroll, always making sure to stop and say bye to the librarians. Everything was done with cool collection, because only amateurs panic. He was a master.  
  
He of course had longed to go to the carnival, but he had to arrange it he could go by himself. Adult supervision would get in the way of his plans. Usually he could manage to fool most grown-ups around him. But tonight, he wanted some extra fun.  
  
Josh hung up the phone with a cold grin on his face. He turned to Bukamon, who shrunk back a little. "We're going out tonight, Bukamon," he said. "It's going to be an eventful night."  
  
Bukamon watched Josh go to his room and close the door. A minute later the boy emerged, holding a small box in his hand. It was made of metal and the size of a matchbox. Inside, he knew, was a small, white rock-like object. Josh had obtained it somehow from his father's chemical lab. Bukamon had never quite figured out what it was, since Josh never bothered to explain such details to him, but what he did understand was that the substance reacts violently to air. It was normally kept in bottles of water to make sure it never came in contact with oxygen. At the moment, inside the box, it was covered with a thin layer of gasoline and kept sealed so the gas wouldn't evaporate. Josh had always wanted to use it on something big, seemed like tonight was the night.  
  
Bukamon sat in his place and watched with an apprehensive eye. There was to be trouble tonight, big ones. He wondered if he could talk Josh into letting him stay home. Carefully, he crawled toward Josh and cleared his throat.  
  
"Ready to go, Bukamon?" Josh said, grabbing his jacket and putting the box in his pocket.  
  
"Is it OK if I stay home, Josh?" Bukamon asked, his voice barely audible.  
  
"Of course not." Josh glared at him. "You should know better than to ask something like that."  
  
"But Josh, you don't need me there...."  
  
"Of course I do." Josh bent down and picked the small digimon up. "Or did you forget your part already?"  
  
Bukamon didn't meet his eye. "No," he whispered.  
  
"Good." There was no more room left for argument, just like always. Josh always got what he wanted, and there was no point in contradicting that.  
  
Bukamon's heard filled with dread as they headed for the door.  
  
~*~  
  
The carnival was loud, colorful, and crowded. It reminded Josh of the playground. There were lights hanging all over and game tents filled with laughing children and digimon. A Ferris wheel rolled lazily in the center of the whole setup, surrounded by hundreds of other rides and games. Despite what he knew about Josh's plans, Bukamon was feeling rather upbeat at the sights and sounds. He looked from one end to the next, admiring the entertainment eagerly.  
  
Josh wasn't paying much attention to all the colorful fun around him. He tucked his hands in to the pockets of his jacket and gripped the metal box tightly. For tonight, he had picked the most inconspicuous outfit possible. Blending in was the key when the plan was big. After the carnival, they people will have much to talk about, and no one will remember seeing plain ol' Josh strolling around with his hands tucked away.  
  
He stayed just long enough not to look suspicious. After all, a kid at a carnival was expected to play. So he stopped at a few ring toss booths, and threw a few balls at soda cans. These games were ridiculously easy to him. If he wanted, he could have struck every target dead center. One advantage of his powers was deadly accuracy. But that would appear odd, and there was nothing he wanted less than to draw attention to himself, so he missed. Besides, plastic prizes and stuffed animals didn't interest him. He had bigger fish to fry.  
  
The "haunted house" ride stood to the left of the Ferris wheel. Lines of kids were buying tickets. The night was still young, which meant there would be more kids later on, when everything was set and ready to go. Josh got in line, followed by a nervous Bukamon. No one talked to him, which worked just fine. He didn't want anyone to remember his face, not tonight.  
  
As the tram glided through the dark house, plastic ghouls and paper ghosts floated about, making shrill, eerie sounds. To Josh, who sat silently in the very last car, it all seemed boring and trivial. The other children shrieked with delighted terror as the make-believe figures neared them.  
  
If this makes you scream, Josh thought with a sneer, soon you will die from terror.  
  
A skeleton on a string dangled in front of each car as the train passed. Josh kept his eye on it, watching it come down in front of one car, go up again, then come down on the next. Hidden by the dim light, he pulled out the box in his jack and opened it. The gasoline inside began to evaporate immediately. The skeleton came down on the car in front of him. A girl accompanied by a Floramon shrieked as it went back up. Josh waited... waited...  
  
The skeleton came down directly in front of him, inches from his face. He raised his hands as if in terror, but instead wedges the open metal box between two of the skeleton's ribs. By the time it was going up, a tendril of smoke was already drifting.  
  
Outside, a pair of red eyes watched. And waited.  
  
~*~  
  
He had walked out of the haunted house casually, making no eye contact, showing no exceptional facial expression. But when the fire started, he simply had to laugh. Not wanting anyone to see, Josh slipped to the edge of the carnival, behind a cluster of tall bushes, where he could watch the flames and panicked people, and giggle with uncontrollable glee.  
  
Bukamon was watching also, but with a weary eye. Josh was not pleased with his digimon's pathetic demeanor, but at the moment he was too overjoyed to care. Screams rose from inside the haunted house, from a tram that was in the middle of its run when the flames began to rage out of control. People raced toward the building, scared and restless like ants on a hot griddle. This too made him laugh, just seeing people, the high and mighty conqueror of earth, run around scared silly, no more useful than the buzzing insects.  
  
"Not a bad night, Bukamon, don't you think?" he asked, stilling admiring his handiwork. Bukamon just sighed. "Come on, let's go ask some idiots what's happening, just for the fun of it."  
  
Before he could start to head in the direction of the fire, a rustle in the nearly bushes caught his attention. Josh stopped and glanced around, his ears and eyes perking up the way a predator's do. It was coming from behind him, just to the left. He signaled Bukamon to keep moving.  
  
Without warning, a dark shape leaped out from behind, right onto Josh's shoulder. He felt its powerful claws dig into his flesh. Then the creature, no bigger than a puppy, jumped off and ran directly in front of Bukamon. A few feet away, it stopped in its tracks and spun around to face them, its fangs gleaming in the light of the rising moon. Bukamon uttered a frightened shriek and back up toward Josh.  
  
Josh, however, was not scared. He had trained himself too well to be shocked by a wild digimon. He stood his ground and rubbed the shoulder the creature had stepped on and went for a closer look. It was a Gatomon, but quite different from the normal white version. It was black with red eyes and an overall sinister look. It didn't take much to see that it was clearly a virus type, which was odd since Gatomon are supposed to be vaccines.  
  
"Good kitty," Josh said mockingly and extended one hand. "Nice kitty, who's your partner?" The dark digimon hissed. "Oh, you want a fight? Fine." He pulled out his digivice and aimed it at Bukamon, who whimpered. "I'll give you one. No better way to end a night than with a good fight. Bukamon, dark digivolve!"  
  
Bukamon began to glow with cold energy. He grew bigger and turned an icy cold blue color. The Gatomon, who apparently did not expect this, back away a step.  
  
BUKAMON DARK DIGIVOLVE TO... ICE GOMAMON!!  
  
~*~  
  
Duncan Kamiya stood out of sight, a few yards away from Josh Kido, watching and waiting for his Gatomon to attack. The first hunt was always the most exhilarating. But although he had expected an easy victory, Josh did something unexpected. That wimpy little seal of his somehow digivolved, and into a virus, too!  
  
Just like him, Gatomon was surprised by this sudden change. The new digimon before her was quite different from a normal Gomamon. Its skin was icy blue and with scales. A line of razor-sharp teeth stuck out in all directions from its mouth. Two wide, strong paws laid firmly on the ground, on each were two long, large claws. Its tail resembled that of a shark, smooth and long, with a flat, split tailfin at the end. Two huge black eyes gazed out menacingly, as if ready to tear apart everything in sight.  
  
Impressive, Duncan thought, very impressive.  
  
Josh waved at his digimon. It let out a low growl and raised its claws.  
  
"Ice Claw!" It snarled and charged at Gatomon, who bounded out of the way just into time. The claws embedded themselves in the ground, carving deep trenches.  
  
Gatomon hissed and stared at the other digimon. Her eyes began to glow as she used Cateye Hypnosis. Ice Gomamon wavered a bit and raised its claws again in defense as Gatomon came ferociously.  
  
There's no point in keeping this up, Duncan thought, amused. He's one of us, and we will need him in the future.  
  
He began to step out of the shadows.  
  
~*~  
  
Josh Kido was watching the battle with amusement when another figure stepped out of the bushes. He turned in alarm and found a boy with light brown hair about his age standing there. Josh recognized him as Duncan, the son of Kari Kamiya. As he eyed the newcomer suspiciously, Duncan snapped his fingers twice and Gatomon jumped out of Gomamon's way and walked to his feet.  
  
"Nice digimon you got there," Duncan said casually. "Virus, I presume?"  
  
Josh nodded slowly as his own digimon neared him and sat facing the others. "That Gatomon is yours?" he asked.  
  
Duncan nodded. "This is Dark Gatomon, the first in the Gatomon species to be a virus," he said. "What do you call that little critter of your?"  
  
"Ice Gomamon."  
  
Duncan smiled, as did his Gatomon. The digimon's grin reminded Josh of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. "Of course," Duncan said. "You know, I'm surprised to see you with a digimon that is able to dark digivole. I've always pictures you as sort of a..." he chuckled. "Well, a wimp."  
  
"Appearances are deceiving," Josh said easily. His digimon growled. "Down, boy."  
  
"I see he's not properly trained yet," the brown-hair boy bent down and stroked his Gatomon, who purred contently.  
  
"He's a bit untamed," Josh said. "I will have him obeying me in no time. And besides, there's nothing wrong with been a little wild at heart."  
  
"Sure," Duncan looked at him slanted with a little sneer. "Sure. But the way I see it, he could use a little work. Care to train with me?"  
  
"Why would I want to?"  
  
"Because we're waiting for the same thing, aren't we?" Josh was a little taken back at the question. "We both know that the time will come, and we both want to be ready when it does."  
  
Josh eyed the other boy for a long time. "She's come to you," he said at last.  
  
"If you are referring to Mona, yes she has," Duncan straightened up and took a step forward. "She says she's our leader, and I believe her. It was meant to be, just like our powers."  
  
"You are the lieutenant, aren't you?"  
  
"Seems to be that way, Josh." Duncan's Gatomon was still grinning.  
  
Josh felt a smile creep to his face. "Very well, lieutenant," he said, and gave a formal bow that was only half sarcastic. "We will train together, and when the time arrives, may we stand next to each other in battle."  
  
"I expect it to be so." Duncan turned and began to leave. "I'll be in touch soon to begin our training."  
  
"Very well. Shall I inform the others?"  
  
Duncan stopped. "There are others?" he asked.  
  
"Two as far as I know: Travis Ishida and Andrew Tachikawa."  
  
The other boy thought for a moment. "I will get in contact with them, and inform Mona, too. Bring them to the first training session and we shall see whether or not we have a decent team. Bear in mind that the unworthy will be weeded out."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Josh watched the young lieutenant disappear into the shadows. Behind him, the fire was still raging and sirens could be heard in the distance.  
  
  
  
To be continued... 


	4. The Evil Cometh

Ch. 4 The Evil Cometh  
  
"Let me get this straight." The voice was cold with a hint of arrogance. Mona felt a smile creep to her lips. She liked voices such as this. It showed... potential. "You want ME to help you?"  
  
"Yes." No hesitation. None was needed, because there was no time to waste.  
  
"What's in it for me?" Lilith Izumi sat back in her chair and folded her hands. A blue PC hummed away on the desk in front of her. It was her access to the world, and all the knowledge she needed. Mona was across from her, sitting on her bed with an expression on her face that was somewhat difficult to read.  
  
"How about a piece of the new world?" Mona had played this conversation over in her head hundreds of times, if no thousands. All she had to offer, all the correct responses were recorded in her mind to perfection.  
  
"And what guarantee do I have exactly that I WILL receive a piece of the new empire?"  
  
Mona spread her arms in a confident gesture. "You have the promise of your leader," she said. "When the takeover is complete, both world shall be divided among its rightful rulers."  
  
Lilith tilted her head. Strands of short brown hair fell to one side, just touching her shoulder. "Rightful leaders?"  
  
"In other words, us."  
  
Slowly, Lilith stood up and walked to the window of her room. Outside, dusk was drawing near, and the first signs of fog were beginning to show. She propped her elbows on the windowsill and watched the quiet streets. Behind her, Mona's voice continued.  
  
"The times draws near, Lily," the black-haired girl was saying, "and I want my soldiers to be prepared. No one is going to be left behind, not if they are on my side. The reign of light is coming to an end, and darkness will soon rule."  
  
Lilith stood frozen for several minutes, her ten-year-old body a mere shadow against the setting light. "Alright," she said. "It seems that you are the chosen, and I'm not going to protest if it is the way meant to be." She turned and leaned her back against the glass, facing Mona. "But that does not make it the best way. Your actions will judge what kind of leader you are in time."  
  
Mona grinned. "I assure you that there will be no disappointments."  
  
A knock on the door startled them both. Lilith quickly sat down in front of the computer and opened a file. Inside was an essay done from a long time ago. Mona stood and leaned in toward the screen.  
  
The door opened and Izzy Izumi peeked in with a warm smile. "You girls need anything?" he asked.  
  
"No thanks, dad," Lilith called cheerfully. "Mona's just helping me with my homework."  
  
Her father shrugged. "OK, holler if you need me."  
  
The door closed. Lilith shifted her gaze from the computer to her companion.  
  
"Lead wise, Mona. When the time comes, the servers of the empire will need to turn to its new queen."  
  
"You let me worry about that."  
  
Lilith nodded. "Very well. Now what is it that you need from me?"  
  
"First, a little digging in your father's computer, mainly information concerning the second wave of monster attacks in Odeiba. Oh, and a 12-year- old boy..."  
  
~*~  
  
Tyler Techenouchi stood without movement, like a statue. His eyes were closed tightly as he focused on the swirling substance around him. He was tired and energized all at the same time, as tendrils of purple rose around him, dancing silently in the air like ghosts.  
  
Fog-creating was a difficult task, never before mastered by a human, until now. Tyler had already known he was special, but this simply goes to prove that he was more so. Power was flowing through him, seeping out of his every pore in the form of violet vapor. The fog was darkness itself, as was he.  
  
Perched at the boy's foot, sitting quietly and drinking in the evil, was a Biyomon. Unlike the partner of Sora Techenouchi, Tyler's mother, this Biyomon resembled a deformed vulture. Long, hard gray feathers covered its wings, concealing two pairs of blade-like claws. Its feet were abnormally large with rugged talons and strong grips. A lengthy beak with a curved tip like that of an eagle grew directly underneath its yellow eyes. Its whole body was different shades of slimy gray and black, resembling a poorly done patchwork.  
  
Footsteps.  
  
Tyler's hearing, very much like the other special ones, was extremely sharp. Spotting the sound just as the fog began to fade, he calculated that the person was just at the front door, giving him enough time to clear the air before greeting the likely unwelcome visitor.  
  
Just as he expected, someone knocked on his door just as the last of the fog disappeared. Tyler checked the clock radio on the nightstand in his room before opening the door. He had managed to hold the fog for thirty minutes this time, a fair improvement from last week's twenty-one. Soon, he knew, he would be able to call on the fog for as long as he wanted, and it shall do his bidding without hesitation.  
  
The mutated Biyomon made a threatening sound as her partner opened the door, and slid under the bed, out of sight. A brown-haired girl stood in the hall, smiling warmly at Tyler. She had large, friendly eyes that sparked at all time of the day, despite the dimness of light. Her long hair was dark brown and not quite black. It draped over her back smoothly. She was wearing a white silk blouse under a powder blue dress. In her hands she held an energetic Upamon.  
  
"Hi Tyler!" she said happily. "Your mom let me in. Do you wanna come out an' play?"  
  
Tyler didn't answer right away. There had been a time when simply the sight of Trisha Iora would have made him blush, dazed, and willing to do anything, no matter how impossible or stupid. She was so nice, and so pretty, and always seemed to know what to do. Her maturity was beyond her years and always kept a happy, positive attitude whenever others are down. He had thought that she was the one perfect human being on earth just a few months ago.  
  
But now...  
  
Thing have changed. Ever since Tyler discovered his "talents", he had cut himself off from socializing with the other children. None of them was special, not like him. Honing his power was the only thing that mattered, because the time was drawing near, and he must be ready. The others were not worthy of him.  
  
Not even sweet, pretty, Trisha. Not anymore.  
  
"No, Trisha," he said emotionlessly. Not long ago, he would have jumped at any chance to be with her. Nothing was more important than Trisha back then. If he had given this answer back then, he would have spent days kicking himself for it. But that was then. That was before the preparation for the Dark Age had begun.  
  
Trisha's smile fell. "Oh," she said, obviously disappointed. "Are you busy?"  
  
He nodded and began to close the door without another word, but Trisha's Upamon bounded out of her arms in a single leap and ran into the room.  
  
"Where's Yokomon?" The little digimon cried. "Can I play with Yokomon?"  
  
"Upamon! Wait!" Trisha was in the room before Tyler could protest. She grabbed her digimon and grinned at Tyler. "We're not gonna bother you anymore. When can you come out?"  
  
Tyler still showed no expression whatsoever. "Never again," he stated flatly.  
  
Trisha gaze at him, puzzled. "What?"  
  
"We'll never be playing together again, Trisha." Again, no emotion.  
  
"I don't understand." Tirsha looked around the room nervously. Tyler closed the door leading to the hall, cutting them off from the outside. He was staring at her so intensely that she felt like finding a hole and crawling in. "Are you OK?"  
  
"Do you not feel it?"  
  
"Feel what?"  
  
"The coming of the Dark Age. Surely you know what's coming for us." Tyler shifted his stare to the bedroom window  
  
The young girl turned her attention to the window and gasped. The Upamon in her arms did the same. It was only afternoon, but the sky was quickly turning dark. Thick clouds were shielding the light. From the ground, purple fog was rising, rolling upward in balls like tumbleweeds. And it glowed, glowed in a way that could only be defined one way—evil.  
  
"What's happening?" she asked.  
  
A thin, unreadable smile appeared on Tyler's lips. "I might as well explain it to you, seeing how we may never meet again," he said. "The reign of light is coming to an end, Trisha Darkness will soon rule. It has chosen its servants to take over the worlds and prepare for its new empire." He extended one hand, palm up. Purple smoke very much like the fog outside drifted from the center. "I happen to be one of the chosen."  
  
"Ch-chosen?"  
  
"Of course. Now, certainly there will be light-bearers who rise up and resist the Darkness's control, but we are ready for them." He snapped his fingers and Trisha felt something brush up against her leg. She jumped, suddenly aware that she had backed up against his bed. A second later, the ugliest, most deformed Biyomon she had ever seen crawled out from underneath. It looked at her with molten yellow eyes. Upamon whimpered.  
  
"This is a Biyomon," Tyler continued. "Well, mostly. It was created through the process of dark digivolution done on a Yokomon. Instead of it been the usual vaccine type, it is now a virus, with double the power of an ordinary Biyomon and the ability to absorb the data of others to add to its strength. I call her Shadow Biyomon."  
  
Trisha stepped back until she felt the cold wall against her spine, but it wasn't nearly as cold as the look on Tyler's face. "You're crazy," she whispered.  
  
"Am I?" Tyler no longer looked like the carefree 11-year-old she knew. Suddenly he looked very tall, and much older. He took a step toward her. "There are others like me, Trisha," he said. "And they are just as powerful, perhaps even more so. I have been told that our leader has awakened and is ready to take charge. If you're smart, you'll heed my warning: stay out of our way." The Biyomon made a noise that sounded like mocking laugh. Tyler extended one hand toward Trisha.  
  
"No!" she screamed and closed her eyes in fear, clutching Upamon to her tightly. "Don't touch me!" But his hand kept coming, and seemed to do so for a very long time. She knew that he was no longer her friend, but a devil.  
  
"Ahh!" That wasn't her voice. Trisha open her eyes and saw that Tyler had drew back, an astonished look on his face. The disgusting Biyomon was no longer laughing, but hissing. She looked down and saw that her body was surrounded by a pale glow, like moonlight. Tyler was cradling his fingers, which here filled with scorch marks that looked quite painful.  
  
Not bothering to understand the situation, Trisha fled.  
  
Tyler gazed after her, but didn't chase. His Biyomon came to him and gazed up.  
  
"She isss, isssn't she?" she asked.  
  
Tyler nodded. "A light bearer," he said. "So they've emerged already. This is much sooner than I'd expected." The marks on his fingers stun, but it was no big deal. His healing power was coming along nicely. Slowly, he focused on the wounded, willing them to disappear.  
  
No effect.  
  
He concentrated harder.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
The light on Trisha, whatever it was, had burned him, and could not to treated by a dark healer. Tyler sat there, stunned, knowing that he must contact Mona as soon as possible.  
  
~*~  
  
Duncan Kamiya stood in a secluded clearing of the Digital World, surveying the members of the team. Dark Gatomon circled him soundlessly, also keeping a watchful eye on the newcomers. Josh did a good job finding these two, Duncan thought.  
  
Josh Kido stood a few feet before Duncan, Ice Gomamon at his side. To his left was a ten-year-old boy with orange-blond hair and a "don't-mess-with- me" look. He wore a black sweatshirt and ripped blue jeans. To his side was a plant-type digimon that resembled a Palmon, but was covered with sharp thorns like those found on a Togemon. It was a sickly maroon color with a large, foul-smelling flower on its head. Its eyes were slits and the same shade of dark red as the tentacles on its large hands.  
  
To Josh's right stood a blond boy about the same age in a light green shirt and gray pants. This one interested Duncan particularly, mostly because of his digimon. So far, all the other digimon of the team had been a virus version of their vaccine prototypes, but this boy's digimon was not only a virus, but of a totally different type than its original. It was a Demidevimon, a digimon who had no vaccine counterpart, but a one hundred percent virus. Duncan wondered with great interest how he had come about obtaining such a partner.  
  
He approached the orange-blond first and extended his hand. The boy had a firm grip for his size. "Duncan Kamiya," he said. His digimon stepped beside him. "This is Dark Gatomon."  
  
The other nodded. "I'm Andrew Tachikawa," he offered. "My partner here is called Poison Palmon."  
  
Duncan looked at the deformed creature with appreciation. "Dark digivolution?" he asked.  
  
"None other."  
  
Next, he went to the blond boy and shook his hand.  
  
"Travis Ishida," the boy said. "This is Demidevimon."  
  
Duncan looked at the sneakily grinning bat-type digimon. "How did you come about this digimon?" he asked. "I thought you had a Patamon."  
  
"I did," Travis said. "But I took dark digivolution one step further. You see, my father often told me of an experience he had way back with a digimon called Devimon. To me, Devimon sounded like perfect digimon, unlike these useless vaccine types. So I trained my digimon in its Tokomon stage to learn the attacks to Demidevimon. Eventually, its body was used to such actions and began transformation into a virus type even before its first digivolution." He sneered darkly. "Soon, this little critter will become a Devimon."  
  
"I'm impressed," Duncan said. And he was. He stepped back from the others. "Now let's see what kind of attack power you have. Andrew?"  
  
Andrew gestured to his Palmon, who followed him to the center of the clearing and faced a large tree. "Unlike the regular Palmon," Andrew said proudly to Duncan. "My Poison Palmon attacks with a REAL Poison Ivy." He nodded to his digimon.  
  
"Poison Ivy!" Palmon shouted. Its tentacles shot forward and wrapped themselves around the wide trunk of the tree. With a jerk, the tree was pulled out by the root. Immediately, the bark around the tentacle began to dry out. In the space of a minute, the entire tree withered and died, leaving a dry body and a pile of blackened leaves, radiating a decaying smell.  
  
"Not bad," Duncan said. "Strong and deadly."  
  
Travis stepped forward, followed by Demidevimon. The digimon aimed at the dead tree and folded its wings over its body. "Demi Dart!" As its wings flew open, two dark shapes flew toward the tree and it burst into powder in an instant.  
  
"You know, Dark Gatomon," Duncan said, half to his digimon and half to himself. "We are witnessing the skills of the heirs of both worlds."  
  
~*~  
  
Ken knelt by his bed alone. Yolei was not home. She had been going out a lot lately, talking to Kari practically everyday. He didn't mind, really, knowing that his wife needed a woman's companionship. It gave him time alone to think.  
  
The voices were fading, for reasons he did not understand. He didn't think that it was because the madness was over, but because that something else was beginning.  
  
Reaching under the bed, he pulled out a small, flat box. No one knew he kept it, not even Wormmon or Yolei. As much as he trusted and loved them both, this was something he rather not share with them. It was a piece of his past that he didn't want to remember but knew he must.  
  
With trembling hands Ken lifted the box's lid. Inside was a shiny black object in the shape of a broken ring. It was a dark ring, the very same one that Gatomon found on the day they went to search for her tail ring. It was on that day that he, Kari, and Yolei had encountered the Dark Ocean together, and it was on that day that he witnessed the inner strength of Yolei as she fought through her own fright as well as Kari's. Although he never told her, it was on that day that he fell in love with Yolei.  
  
This ring was likely the last of the Digimon Emperor, and he wanted it to remain that way. Looking at it calmed him, knowing that all the terror it caused was over, but it also frightened him, because he sometimes dreamed that it would come back to life.  
  
Now, as he gazed upon its cold stillness, its broken edge, he felt a strange peace in his heart, but it was not a comforting peace, more like the quiet before a storm. Shakily, he closed the box and shoved it back under his bed and stumbled to his feet.  
  
When he reached the bedroom door, Ken discovered that he was covered with cold sweat. He wiped his forehead with one hand and leaned on the doorframe, shaking uncontrollably. His eyes closed as he heard the voice of the emperor again, beckoning him from beyond the darkness.  
  
"Oh my god..." he whispered.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
He opened his eyes and saw his daughter standing there, looking at him with curiously eyes. All at once, he blamed himself for been so weak. How could he protect his family against whatever was coming if he was in this state? Ken straightened, despite the fact that he felt like his nerves were on fire.  
  
"Are you alright, daddy?" Mona asked.  
  
"I'm fine, honey," Ken replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "I think I'm coming down with something, but... I'm fine."  
  
The child shrugged. "OK."  
  
She was still staring at him, and for some reason it made him uncomfortable. Carefully, he walked out of the hall and to the living room, avoiding his daughter's gaze. He needed to rest, to sleep, and to prepare himself for whatever was coming.  
  
~*~  
  
Mona felt her father walk past her to the living room. She wasn't really looking at him, but at the room behind him. There was something in there, she could feel it. It made her excited and a little frightened all at once. She took a step toward it and felt the presence grow stronger.  
  
Mona...  
  
It was calling her. She could hear the voice distinctly. It sounded familiar.  
  
Mona...  
  
She entered the bedroom.  
  
Be strong, Mona...  
  
She stood there in the thick silence, feeling the energy surrounding her.  
  
Find me, Mona...  
  
She knelt beside the bed and reached underneath. Her fingers felt a hard object, which she pulled out. It was a box.  
  
Open it...  
  
She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't watched and opened the lid. What she saw was a metal ring, black in color, and fairly shiny. It had some patterns on it, but as far as she could see, they served no particular purpose. It was missing a piece to one side.  
  
Use your power...  
  
Gingerly, with one hand, she reached out and touched the ring. Instantly, it began to grow hot under her touch. Before her wide eyes, the ring mended itself, growing new metal out of nothing, and connected the broken gap with a soft "snap". When she pulled her hand back, the ring was good as new, black and shiny.  
  
With both hands, Mona grabbed the ring and held it firmly. It was no ordinary ring; it was one of power, evil, strength. The voice came again, this time not from the outside, but from within her own mind.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
  
The answer, however, came from her own mouth; her own voice spoke out, with a new sense of power and confidence.  
  
"I am the Digimon Empress."  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


	5. Dark Ring

Ch. 5 Dark Ring  
  
When the phone rang, Ken was slumped on the couch, only half conscious. He was so out of it that the almost thought the ringing was from his own mind.  
  
"I got it!" he heard his son call. He nodded faintly. Cold sweat was covering his back, staining the white shirt he was wearing and sticking the material to his back.  
  
"Hello? Yeah. Hold on. Mona, it's for you!" Vicky waved the cordless phone in the air as his sister came out of her room. He cast a nervous look at his father and wondered if he should ask whether everything's all right. But by the time Mona snatched the phone from his hand, he had decided against it. Adults never tell kids anything. They always say they're fine because they don't want the kids to worry.  
  
He'll say he's fine, Vicky thought mournfully, because I can't help. I'm too little to help.  
  
Minomon stood at the door of his partner's room. He could sense something was wrong but could not figure out what. There was a strange vibe about the household that he could not put his finger on. Behind him, cowering in the corner was Danny's Leafmon, who had not spoke a word since the untimely demise of his partner. He got worse with each passing day.  
  
Minomon trembled even though the room was abnormally warm. Surreal energy floated in the air, probing him with their invisible fingers. Leafmon drew a shuddering breath and withdrew further back into himself. Soon, Minomon feared, Leafmon would be so wrapped up in his sorrow, that no matter what he said or did, his friend couldn't hear from beyond the thick layer of dreariness.  
  
~*~  
  
Lilith Izumi leaned back in her chair in front of her work desk. Her computer screen flashed at amazing speed, going from one image to the next within the space of a second. Lilith's eyes never left the screen even as she held the phone in one hand and twirled the fingers of the other hand around the black metal ring Mona had given her. The ability of her mind to register information and graphic was second perhaps only to Mona.  
  
The ring truly intrigued her when Mona first brought it to her place and instructed her to analyze its makeup. At first, it did not appear to be anything special, but when hooked up to her systems, the ring proved to store no less data and electronic power than a government supercomputer and a standard-size electric generator.  
  
A very complex program was embedded in the miniature silicon circuits covering the ring's surface. The moment the ring was activated, the program booted at lightning speed and was up and running in (according to her estimations) 0.0042 seconds.  
  
Such ingenious construction, she thought. I truly admire its inventor.  
  
One image suddenly caught her eye on the computer. She brought the scanner to a stop and backed up to the particular section for a closer look. It was a file from her father's computer, one that matched the subject matter Mona inquired.  
  
The boy on the other line called to his sister. A moment later, footsteps were heard, paused, then a few more, then the closing of a door. Mona was undoubtedly alone in her room now.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Mona? Lilith." She clicked on the file; it brought up a list of text and image files.  
  
"What have you got for me?"  
  
"I did a little analyzing on the little gadget you gave me. Quite impressive, I must say." She accessed the first item.  
  
"And...?"  
  
"It's a complex tool, not made of any metal in the real world, so it had to be created in the digital world. The wires on the surface store an incredible amount of data." A line of text appeared on the screen:  
  
Restricted File. Enter Password: ___________  
  
Lilith closed the folder and began to prepared one of her many hacking programs.  
  
"What does it do?"  
  
"It's a mind-control device."  
  
There was a pause on the other line, then, "are you serious?"  
  
"Quite." The first hacker program began to load.  
  
"How does it work?"  
  
"From what I can tell, it only works on digimon. When placed on one, it works to weaken parts of the digimon's data makeup, then overrides it and spreads to take over the main parts of the digimon's data that controls basic thought and mechanical movement." The hacker failed; apparently the file was well protected. Lilith opened a more proficient program.  
  
"Interesting." Mona sounded both intrigued and excited. "Can you duplicate it?"  
  
"Probably." The second program also failed. Lilith began to crack into the files manually. "But I think I can do more than that."  
  
"I would be disappointed if you couldn't." That told her that Mona already knew what she was going to say next."  
  
"I can modify it to control humans." It was a challenge, but Lilith enjoyed challenges. "Think of the possibilities."  
  
"I am."  
  
The screen beeped. Lilith smiled. "By the way, I just found the information you wanted from my father's computer. The one on... oh yeah, here it is... the 'digimon emperor'." She began to read.  
  
"Good. What's it about?"  
  
"Hold on." As she read, her eyes widened. "Oh my god," she breathed.  
  
"Lilith? What's wrong?"  
  
"Mona, I think you better get over here. You need to see this for yourself."  
  
~*~  
  
Tyler Techenouchi was meditating again.  
  
His room was clear one minute, and filled with thin purple the next. His fog was thickening more quickly with each practice, and for that he was proud.  
  
Shadow Biyomon perched on his desk, soaking in the darkness with relish.  
  
But the fog soon dispersed. Tyler propped down on his bed and found that he couldn't concentrate. His mind dwelled on Trisha, the way she looked at him, as if he had grown a hideous second head.  
  
In a way, he supposed he had. He was changing and his mind was sharpening by the second. Trisha didn't understand that. He didn't expect her to. After all, she was not like him. He was special, and she was  
  
(beautiful)  
  
not.  
  
There was a knock on his door. Tyler's eyes perked up. He signaled for Biyomon to hide before he got up to open it. Her transformation was not to be known, not yet. There would be a time for that, but now was still early.  
  
"There's no need to hide you digimon from me," the person outside said. Tyler paused. "Let her out. I would like to see her."  
  
The door clicked open and Tyler peered out to see a brown-haired boy his age, perhaps a little older. They exchanged a glance before they both smiled. Tyler opened the door all the way and welcomes his guest.  
  
"I am Duncan Kamiya."  
  
"Tyler Techenouchi."  
  
Duncan studied Tyler for a moment. "You've been in contact with a light bearer," he commented casually.  
  
Tyler nodded.  
  
"Mona is busy at the moment, but you will sit and tell me everything." It was an order, not a request.  
  
~*~  
  
Lilith opened all the files in the folder containing information on the digimon emperor. It was fascinating indeed. Next, she put those aside temporarily and brought up a series of data that she had found a day before, also at Mona's request. It was on a humanoid digimon that invaded Odeiba many years back, in the days of the first digidestines.  
  
The door to her room opened and she didn't have to turn to know who it was. She waved Mona toward her.  
  
"This better be good," the dark-haired girl said.  
  
"Oh, it is." Lilith opened the most detailed text document on the digimon emperor. "Just read this."  
  
Mona did so as the other girl sat back silently, watching her with a peculiar smile. Several minutes passed. Mona was rereading the document for the third time.  
  
Finally, she let out a deep breath and sat back on Lilith's bed. "My god," she whispered.  
  
"Yep," Lilith said nonchalantly. "Ken Ichijouji, boy genius, youngest person to ever win the international computer contest. Also known as the Digimon Emperor in the digital world. He ruled the digital world for a period of roughly nineteen month, made the digimon his slave by making them wear the 'Dark Rings', as he called them. At one point, he even created an ultimate-level digimon out of scattered data."  
  
Mona was wearing a blank, shocked expression. Slowly, a sneer appeared on her face. "Perfect," she said.  
  
"Perfect?"  
  
"Yes," Mona stood up suddenly. "Think of all the things he must know! The digital world was at his feet for more than a year, and he was my age!" Images flashed in her mind: the call of the ring, the words out of her mouth, the incredible feeling of power as she held it in her hand... "This is fate, Lilith."  
  
Lilith shrugged. "Possible. But what makes you think he will tell you anything, despite the fact that you're his daughter? Don't forget, he joined the digidestined and turned good. It's not likely that he will want another young dictator on this earth."  
  
Mona shifted her gaze to the dark ring lying on the table, then looked at Lilith. "You said you can modify this to control humans, didn't you?"  
  
It didn't take long for Lilith to catch on. "Of course," she said.  
  
"How long will it take you to do it?"  
  
Lilith thought about this. "Two days, tops."  
  
"Then do it. And while you're at it, up the power level. Double it."  
  
"I assume you have big plans?"  
  
"Do you have the stuff I need on Myotismon?"  
  
"Right here." Lilith pulled up the files.  
  
"Good." Mona took the ring and held it in her hands. "My dear daddy will provide us with the information on the creation of digimon and we will bring Myotismon back. According to what this particular digimon had accomplished, he seems like the ideal partner for me, much better than that little runt I was paired with."  
  
Lilith cocked one eyebrow. "You realize that such a digimon would be difficult to control."  
  
Mona tossed the ring into Lilith's lap. "On second thought, up the power exponentially," she said.  
  
~*~  
  
While Mona and Lilith worked on the dark ring, Vicky was debating his uneasy feelings.  
  
He wanted to tell his parents what his sister had been up to, but what HAD she been up to? He didn't know. All he knew was that something bad was about to happen and he may be powerless to stop it.  
  
I need to talk to someone, he thought.  
  
Of course he couldn't talk to Mona. And as for his parents, he could find no words to explain the situation to them. Minomon was his friend, but this felt more like a... human matter.  
  
His eyes wondered to the phone. Suddenly determined, he went to it and dialed the number of his best friend, Ben Kamiya.  
  
~*~  
  
Yolei laid flat on her bed with her hands tucked under the pillow beneath her head, gazing emptily up at the ceiling. Her son was sleeping over and a friend's house and Ken was alone in the living room, sitting in front of the TV but wasn't watching it. She knew she should go get dinner started, but could find no strength to do it. Over the past few days, she met with Kari more and more often, talking about Danny's death mostly, but it had expanded into more than that. Danny did not die of natural causes, she was certain of it, as certain as she was about the existence of the air and sky. But who would believe her besides sweet, understanding Kari?  
  
The fog.  
  
Kari had also noticed the fog.  
  
The fog had killed Danny, and for a reason, too.  
  
And just what would that be, Yolei? She asked herself. I'm going crazy.  
  
A light tap at the door made her turn. Mona stood there looking at her with her hands in the large pockets of her overalls. Just gazing at her daughter made Yolei want to cry. She was so beautiful, so young. She gestured for Mona to join her on the bed.  
  
"Are you thinking about Danny, mommy?" the child asked, her voice full of innocence. Yolei knew she couldn't lie so she nodded. "Do you miss him?"  
  
Another nod.  
  
"Sometimes thing happen, mommy," Mona said. "It's nobody's fault."  
  
Yolei gave her daughter a tired smile. "Listen to you," she said. "All grown-up and mature." Reaching over, she pulled Mona in for a comforting hug.  
  
All at once she felt her breath quicken. Mona's touch was so COLD! It was like holding a feeling less ice sculpture. Yolei tried to pull away to check to see if her daughter was sick, but Mona held on with one arm, and she was abnormally strong. The other arm came out of her pocket holding a  
  
NO  
  
Before she could cry out, the dark ring was clasped firmly around her neck with a click. Yolei gasped and bolted up right, about to scream.  
  
Mona released her. "Lie down," she said flatly, no more than a whisper. Yolei felt her scream choked back as she flopped back onto the bed. Her chest rose and lowered in anxiety as she craned her neck to look at her daughter, whose entire innocent expression had vanished, replaced by a chilly gaze.  
  
"Don't move," Mona ordered. Yolei felt her every muscle stiffen at the command. "Very good."  
  
With great effort, Yolei spoke. "Mona," she gasped. "Why..."  
  
"Nothing personal, mother," Mona said. "I simply can't have you in the way."  
  
"What..."  
  
Mona went on as if not hearing. "Do you know why Danny died, mother?" she asked. "Not how, but why? I'll tell you. Now don't say a word because I don't like been interrupted." Yolei's jaws clamped shut hard. She tasted blood as she bit her tongue.  
  
"The world is changing. Both worlds are." Mona got off the bed and began to pace slowly. "The ruling of light is coming to an end soon, and darkness will take its place. There are those who will serve the darkness, be its guardians and soldiers, and those are the beings who will inherit the world. You know that old saying, 'the meek will inherit the world'? That's a lie. The strong will take over and rule with an iron fist.  
  
"I am the chosen leader of this new dark squadron, mother. It is my destiny. I will lead my fellow fighters to victory. Of course, some will rise to oppose us, the ones chosen by the light to defend it, but I have no doubt that under my leadership, they will be crushed. Now, you original digidestined, you are special, that is why your children are chosen to lead. We have already been divided.  
  
"Danny was torn between the two sides. Both sides saw potential in him, just as both sides saw potential in all of us. But he was too young, so he couldn't survive the process of conversion. Whether he was light or dark, I do not know. I do know what Vicky is a light bearer, which means I will have to take care of him, as soon as possible. It's a shame but it has to be done.  
  
"As you can see, mother, the darkness is already stronger. With each passing hour, more of the world is surrounded in darkness and less light lingered." Mona leaned over and planted a cold kiss on her mother's cheek. Yolei flinched. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go speak to a certain Digimon Emperor."  
  
As she listened to the diminishing footsteps of her daughter, Yolei tried to weep, but the best she could do under the restraining of the ring was a single tear.  
  
~*~  
  
The TV drones on merely a few feet away from him, but Ken could hear none of it. He had a headache and his ears were pounding. The announcer was speaking monotonously about something, economy or other. Ken couldn't care less.  
  
The Digimon Emperor was speaking to him again, telling him that a lot of things were about to happen, that everyone he loved and cared about will be destroyed in the world way possible. Especially... his children.  
  
"What do you want?" Ken asked the empty room. "You already took Danny from me, what do you want?!"  
  
No one answered. Suddenly, all sound vanished. Ken shook out of his trance and saw that the TV had been turned off. The noises in his brain faded as he saw Mona standing in the hall leading to the living room, holding the television remote.  
  
"You were talking in your sleep, daddy," she said with a smile.  
  
Ken nodded and grinned tiredly. "Where's your mother?" he asked.  
  
"Mom's taking a nap," Mona said as she sat down on the couch next to Ken. "She's really tired."  
  
Her father sat up a little and ran one hand over his face. "I guess we all are."  
  
"Daddy?" Mona said softly. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Sure, honey." Ken tried to shake the feelings of uneasy from his mind. "What is it?" He felt Mona grasping his hand, and noted suddenly that her skin was very cold.  
  
"What was it like been the ruler of the digital world?" His daughter's grip suddenly tightened as his blood turned cold.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What was it like having an entire world at your feet, daddy?" Mona's hand was like a metal clamp. Her other hand rose, wrapped around a black object, and Ken suddenly felt the dizziness come back to him.  
  
"Where did you get that, Mona?" He croaked. His throat was suddenly very dry.  
  
"From you, daddy dearest." Mona's eyes flashed a shade of dark purple as her teeth pulled back in a thin snarl.  
  
Ken grasped his daughter's wrist with his free hand and tried to push the dark ring away, but the girl's strength was monstrous. The metal felt cold as it was pressed over the tender skin on his neck.  
  
"Sit still, daddy," Mona ordered. Ken found himself obeying. His hand release Mona's as they placed themselves in his lap. "Now, come into mommy's room. We have a lot of talk about."  
  
Ken moaned. "Mona..." he strained. "Don't do this..."  
  
"But I must, daddy," Mona said with a dark relish. "Stand." Ken did. "Come into the bedroom."  
  
When he followed Mona stiffly into the bedroom, Ken saw his wife lying on the bed. She did look like she was sleeping, but she wasn't moving, or breathing. For a crazed moment he was certain that she was dead, that his twelve-year-old daughter had killed his wife, but then he noticed the dark ring around her neck. Yolei was breathing, but very lightly, and her eyes were closed rightly, as if shutting her mind off from this nightmare.  
  
"Yolei," he called, but no more than a whisper. His wife's eyes opened and he saw she they were red from tears that were forced back. Their gaze met for a moment before Mona gave her order.  
  
"Sit," the girl said simply. Ken sat down on the bed, next to Yolei. Mona pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "Now, tell me about... Chimeramon."  
  
Ken talked for what seemed like a very long time, holding back the tears that kept trying to roll. Yolei lay motionless behind him. Every now and then she uttered a whimper that shattered his heart to pieces, but what hurt him the most, was the look on Mona's lovely, youthful face.  
  
It was like taking a trip back in time, and looking into a mirror.  
  
~*~  
  
Vicky sat on his sleeping bag in his pajamas with his legs crossed. Not far from him, on a small double bed, Ben Kamiya was flopped on his stomach, propping his head up with his arms on his elbows. Ben's father, Tai, had already gone to sleep and the apartment was dark save for the small Pikachu night-light in Ben's room.  
  
"Have you told your parents about this?" Ben asked, his little feet waving in the air, making blurry shadows on the wall.  
  
Vicky shook his head. "I donno what I'm suppose to say to'em," he said. "I can't just tell them that I think my sister's bad."  
  
"Bad?"  
  
"Well..." Vicky lowered his head as if in guilt. "I think she's evil."  
  
Ben sat up and dangled his legs off the side of the bed. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I kind of feel it," Vicky said uncertainly. "You know, like when you think there's something under the bed or in your closet. You just feel it and you can't describe the feeling to anyone because they just wouldn't understand."  
  
Ben thought about this. "Has she been really mean to you?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. She was never mean before, an' when I asked about Danny, she said she doesn't care he's dead!"  
  
"And she stays in her room a lot, right? An' she's completely changed, like totally different, right?"  
  
"Yeah! ...how'd you know?"  
  
Ben shook his head in a pensiveness way beyond his nine years. "My cousin is the same way."  
  
Vicky searched his mind for a moment. "Duncan?"  
  
His friend nodded. "You know what I think? I think something's got to them."  
  
"Like aliens?"  
  
"Not quite. But something like aliens."  
  
"So what can we do?"  
  
"Ummm," Ben twiddled his thumbs. "You wanna talk to Dane? He knows tons about aliens."  
  
~*~  
  
Ken drew a deep breath. Half an hours had passed. Mona had not made a single move, but sat still and listened to him speak.  
  
When he stopped, she stood.  
  
"Is that all?" He nodded.  
  
Mona began to circle the bed thoughtfully. "Interesting," she said. "The concept of creation, so complex yet so simple that it could be done." Ken opened his mouth but closed it upon a wave of Mona's hand. She stopped walking and faced her parents. "I'm going out now," she said. "I have places to go, things to do. While I am gone, you two are allowed to roam the house, but you are not to leave. After I leave, I want you to change into high collar shirts and cover up the dark ring. You may speak, but not tell anyone what has happened here. If anyone comes, and that includes Vicky, you will act as if nothing happened, understood?"  
  
Yolei was still staring up into space. Her head nodded slightly. Mona looked at her father.  
  
"Mona, please..." Ken said, forcing out each word. "You can't..."  
  
Mona interrupted him. "I can't? Can't what? If you are saying I can't go about my plans, then you are too late, because they are already in progress. If you are saying I can't rely on the power of the rings to hold you here, then you are wrong, because these rings are much stronger than your old ones, dad. They can fully control the mechanics of human or digimon body to perform complex commands, such as the ones I had given you." She began to head out. "Enjoy your evening. Do not try to contact your digimon. They can't help you. And DO NOT leave the house."  
  
Ken watched his daughter leave the room. After a while, the ring allowed his muscles to relax. Carefully, he flexed his arms and turned to face his wife. She had turned onto her side and curled up, with her face buried in her hands. He reached over and pulled her close to him, and just held her for a very long time.  
  
~*~  
  
Before she left for Lilith's place, Mona went to her room. In a cage underneath her bed, Poromon lay unconscious from a drugged drink given to him by Mona a few hours ago. His small chest was moving weakly but steadily. Mona opened the cage door and carried the sleeping digimon onto her bed, where she placed him in her backpack.  
  
Walking out into the night, she heard the voice of her father, not as he was now, but much younger, and stronger. It was telling her exactly what to do, encouraging her heatedly to go and fulfill her destiny.  
  
The digital world awaits.  
  
UP NEXT: Mona's Partner 


	6. Mona's Partner

Ch 6 Mona's Partner  
  
Lilith checked her clock. 7:30 p.m. It was already dark outside. She opened her closet and took out a tote bag. Inside, she placed a folder filled with data printouts and instructions.  
  
Carefully, she peeked outside her room. Her father was sitting in his favorite chair with a magazine on computer technology on his lap. From the looks of it, he was dozing. With graceful silence, Lilith slipped behind him without a sound and placed a duplicate of the dark metal ring around his neck.  
  
Upon the click of the small latch, Izzy twitched. Lilith placed one hand on his cheek soothingly and whispered, "don't wake up until I tell you to." Her father stopped moving and fell into a deep, coma-like slumber.  
  
Lilith sat and waited with excitement for the arrival of her commander.  
  
~*~  
  
Mona walked in at eight sharp. She didn't knock, knowing the door was already open and waiting for her. She entered the Izumi residence and found the place entirely shrouded in the dark of night. Lilith was sitting in front of her computer. The glow of the screen made her face appear pale and zombie-like.  
  
"Aren't you going to turn on a light?" Mona asked as she set Poromon's cage down on the floor.  
  
"You can if you want to," Lilith replied, still fondling with something on the screen, "but I feel better in the dark."  
  
Mona smiled. "Me, too."  
  
Lilith tapped on the keyboard a few more times before bringing up the digiport. She turned to Mona, then to the cage on lying on the carpet. "You brought your digimon?"  
  
"Just for backup."  
  
"Backup?"  
  
"You know, in case we can't obtain enough data."  
  
Lilith blinked. "You're willing to sacrifice your own partner to bring this digimon back?"  
  
"Don't you already know the answer to that?"  
  
The brown-haired girl felt a twinge of excitement. "I knew you were the right choice to lead."  
  
"There was never any doubt. Do you have everything?"  
  
Lilith grabbed her tote bag. "Yes, are you certain of the location?"  
  
Mona went to the computer and pulled out her digivice. She inserted it into a slot on the computer's side and map of the digital world appeared. One spot on the screen blinked red. "There," she said. "That should be the spot where the digimon emperor's base landed."  
  
Lilith hesitated.  
  
"What's wrong? Aren't you ready?"  
  
The girl was silent for a minute. "Are you sure this is wise?" she asked. "This Myotismon... for all we know, he could be strong and crazy enough to destroy us on sight."  
  
Mona's eyes hardened. "Have you forgotten who you are speaking to?" she demanded sternly.  
  
Lilith shrunk back. "No, of course not."  
  
"Good. Digiport, open!"  
  
~*~  
  
T.K. Ishida woke up in the night and found himself covered in cold sweat. All in a flash the dream came back to him.  
  
It was a dream he had had so long ago. All these years, he thought he had finally escaped it, but it had come back, and haunted him for several nights in a row. What it meant, he didn't know, perhaps it meant nothing at all. But what if it did?  
  
In the dream, he was seven years old again, wearing his old green cap and standing on the top of Devimon's mountain. Patamon was there, but somehow he seemed far away. The other digidestined were there, but when he spoke to them, they didn't reply, but stared at a fixated spot.  
  
Then Devimon appeared, roaring and slashing at the plateau on which they stood. He ducked and fled, but the others didn't. One by one, Devimon took them out and left them to die on the ground. Finally, the tall demon turned and his giant red eyes stopped on him. All at once, T.K. felt so small and helpless.  
  
Just then, Patamon suddenly sprung forward and digivolved into Angemon. Light filled the mountain and the boy felt a burst of hope. But it only lasted a second. Devimon's claws came down and the light turned liquid red. Before his terrified eyes, Angemon vanished, broken into data, his mouth frozen in a silent scream.  
  
And this time, he did not come back. Ever.  
  
T.K. laid in the eerie night, listening to the silence. Patamon was safe, he told himself. Patamon's in the digital world, where there's no more danger, ever. The universe was at peace, and war was no more.  
  
But he couldn't sleep. Or breathe. His throat felt thick and the covers were so heavy. He threw them off and sat up on the bed.  
  
For a second, he thought he heard Devimon's laugh.  
  
Travis!  
  
He was suddenly certain that something terrible had happened to his son, that Devimon had somehow stepped out of his dream and did unspeakable things to Travis. Feeling panic return, T.K. got off the bed and headed for his son's bedroom, trying hard not to run. Two steps from the room, he stopped. The door stood ajar. An odd purple light was pouring out. Carefully, he neared and peeked in.  
  
Travis was up and sitting on the floor fully dressed. From the looks of it, he never went to bed at all. But he seemed to be doing something fun, the way most boys do when they stay up beyond bedtime against their parents wishes. He was playing with him digimon.  
  
T.K. felt his blood run cold when he saw the digimon. It was a Demidevimon, but how...  
  
I'm dreaming, he told himself. I'm dreaming.  
  
Slowly, silently, he returned to bed and pulled the covers over his head. But as he tried to block out what he had just seen, it occurred to him that he had never seen his son's digimon digivolve past in-training stage.  
  
~*~  
  
The last bit of data was put into the program. Lilith activated the assembly code and the machinery hummed into life. Mona stood by, watching, with Poromon beside her, still unconscious. Lucky for the little runt, they had enough data to rebuild Myotismon, but frankly, she was a little disappointed at not having gotten rid of the nuisance. They were inside the Digimon Emperor's old base. It was badly battered, but some of the programs were still usable with a little fixing. Her father had not lied to her, not that he could, everything was where he said it would be, not a hair out of place.  
  
"We are at 55%," Lilith said. "The data tracked down from the point of disintegration should include some of Myotismon's. All we need is 0.001% to bring him back."  
  
Mona nodded. "Do we have that?"  
  
"Just enough," Lilith checked the progress again. "76% now."  
  
"Soon."  
  
"98%, 100%."  
  
Mona turned and headed out of the mechanics room. "Open the chambers." She orders.  
  
With the press of a key, the creation chambers opened. It was double reinforced in titanium, obviously necessary for the containment of Chimeramon. When the doors slid aside, steam rushed out with a hiss. When it cleared, a tall, slim form appeared in the dark. Mona approached with confidence, dimly aware that Lilith was watching from behind nervously.  
  
The digimon was indeed as handsome as the pictures in the archives, perhaps even more so. He was wearing the same blue uniform, black cape, and boots, with a red bat-shaped mask covering his face. Blond hair fell before his steel blue eyes. Slowly, the digimon touched his own face with his gloved hands, then examined his body, as if wondering why he was in one piece.  
  
Mona watched him do this for a minute, admiring his form, then stepped before him. The digimon eyed her with suspicion, but no fear, nor did she expect any. "Myotismon, right?" she asked.  
  
The digimon did not answer. "Who are you?" he demanded. The sense of power in his voice made her anxious.  
  
"My name is Mona," she said, meeting his gaze. "I am your master. Well, mistress, anyway."  
  
He snickered. "Look child," he said. "I don't what you've been drinking, or how I got here, but make no mistake about this: no one is my master."  
  
Mona smiled. His arrogance and confidence appealed to her. Finally, she thought, I have the partner I want. She took another step toward him. Her hands were behind her back, holding a dark ring. "Your name is Myotismon isn't it," she said. "The dark vampire lord, hunter of the eighth child, creator of the digimon emperor. Ultimate level, Mega form MaloMyotismon or VenomMyotismon. You wanted to take over both worlds, isn't that right?"  
  
"You've been doing your homework," Myotismon said. "Now get out of here, kid. I've got some catching up to do." He began to step past her.  
  
"Not so fast." Mona reached out and caught his wrist. He stopped, a little surprised at her strength. "Like I said, I am your mistress. I brought you back here to serve me, and that is what you're going to do?"  
  
The vampire sneered. "Oh really?" he said. "I'll tell you this once, little girl, seeing how I apparently owe you for bringing me back: stay out of my way or you will end up..."  
  
"Dead?"  
  
"Worse."  
  
In a split second, Mona clamped the dark ring on the digimon's arm. "I see I'm made the right choice bringing you back," she said. "Now, submit to me, or you will suffer beyond even your own wildest dream."  
  
Myotismon jerked his hand away and laughed. "A dark ring?" he said mockingly. "You really think you can hold me with a dark ring? Guess you haven't studied enough, kid. Don't you even know who invented these things?"  
  
Mona's expression didn't change. "I know you invented them," she stated. "But I made them useful. You see, my friend over there"-she pointed to Lilith, who was still watching numbly-"upped the power level on this thing, a lot. It can now control ANYTHING, from Mega level digimon to humans."  
  
Myotismon's face hardened. "You're drying my patience, kid," he said threateningly.  
  
"From now on, you will refer to me only as your mistress," Mona said. "Now sit."  
  
Stunned, Myotismon found himself fall to the ground, sitting like a dog obeying a simple command for a bone. Angered, he tried to attack, but something restrained his movement, as if tied by invisible ropes.  
  
Mona stood over him with a smile. She reached down and brushed his hair away from his face. "Good," she said. "Now, what is your purpose?"  
  
The words came without hesitation. "To serve you, my mistress."  
  
"Now stand." Myotismon climbed to his feet. "Come with me." They walked past a stunned Lilith and to the mechanics room. Mona stopped and took a good look at Myotismon. "You're cute," she said with a dark playfulness. "Really cute, and if I'm not mistaken, you're also powerful, cunning, and ambitious."  
  
The digimon nodded.  
  
"But seeing here today, you have met your match." Mona walked in a half circle around him. "It had been over twenty years since you used my father as the digimon emperor, did you know that? No? It has. Back then, the light has won, but now darkness has returned to rule. But the chosen ruler is not you any more, vampire lord, it's me, and you are my slave, just as my father was yours."  
  
Myotismon stood unmoving. The ring did not allow him to. "Very well," he said. "I will play your little game, but the minute this ring comes off..."  
  
"Shush," Mona said and he did. "Don't you know? The ring's not coming off, not until you obey me. Body, mind, and soul. I know you're used to having others serve you, Myotismon, but times have changed. Now, in the new age of darkness, YOU will serve ME."  
  
~*~  
  
Dane Ishida twisted the phone cord around his fingers as he listened to Ben and Vicky babble on.  
  
"You think they got possessed by aliens?" he asked finally.  
  
"Uh-huh," Vicky said from the other side with dead seriousness.  
  
"Well, how do you know? Are they turning into bugs?"  
  
"No, we think they're turning evil."  
  
"Well, not all aliens are evil." Dane changed the receiver from one hand to the other. Honestly, he didn't believe what Ben and Vicky were saying. Besides, E.T. was on.  
  
"They're just acting really weird." There was a clutter from the other end. Someone dropped something. "And aliens make people act weird, right?"  
  
"You're weird." The three boys giggled over the line, careful not to wake the adults.  
  
"But seriously, Dane, I think something's up." Ben's voice said when the laughter died down.  
  
"Could be something else."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Indigestion?" More giggles. A hang tugged on Dane's leg and he looked down to see Tsunomon pulling on his pants. Impatiently, he waved the digimon off. "OK, maybe not, but I mean, you're probably imagining things again."  
  
"No I'm not." Vicky insisted.  
  
"What about that time you thought there was a cow living under your bed?"  
  
"There was! He moved away." Another tug, harder this time. Dane nudged the little digimon aside with his foot and went back to the phone.  
  
"Right, Vicky, and..." Tsunomon suddenly leaped up into Dane's lap. Dane nearly dropped the phone in surprise. "Tsunomon!" he cried. "I'm on the phone! I'll get you food in a second."  
  
"No, Dane, look," the small digimon gazed toward the window on the other side of the living room. "Look!"  
  
Dane was in the process of pushing his partner onto the floor, but his hand froze in midair. Outside the window, thick fog was filling the night. Spheres of purple rolled down the streets like huge bowling balls. Everything was been engulfed by the fog, including his own house.  
  
Meanwhile, loud static was coming from the phone in his hand, breaking up the voices of his friends. "Hello? Da... are y... ther...? Hel..."  
  
Dane looked at Tsunomon numbly for a minute. The little digimon nodded, "it's everywhere."  
  
Slowly, Dane brought the phone to his ears and said stiffly, "look out the window, Ben."  
  
"What? Dan... wha..."  
  
"Look out the..." the phone went dead.  
  
~*~  
  
Andrew Tachikawa sat motionlessly in class. The courses taught had stopped interesting him long ago. His knowledge of the world had begun to surpass the teacher recently, which meant that if he were ever called to answer a question, he could do it without batting an eye.  
  
More exciting things were going on in his life, such as the upcoming new turning point of the both worlds, and the rigorous training he had gone through for the past few days with the boy called Duncan, who was the chosen lieutenant. Upon meeting Duncan for the first time, he had been a bit jealous, feeling that it was unfair that he himself was not chosen as lieutenant. But that was up to the designated leader and he knew that well.  
  
Besides, he had something that he was certain none of the other soldiers had.  
  
Andrew turned his sight slowly to the girl sitting next to him and cleared his mind. Instantly, he saw images that were once seen only by her.  
  
He saw her going behind the school at smoking with a group of high school student, then dusting off her proper little dress to greet her mother. He saw her parents dropping her off at the mall, but the minute she entered the door, she stripped off her shirt, showing a skin-revealing halter top that she was way too young to wear. Also, it was stolen.  
  
The boy in front of him also had many secrets, such as his abnormal desire for a certain female teacher, and his obsession with childish sing-along TV show. He's extremely insecure about his looks, too.  
  
This power Andrew had sometimes gave him disturbing dreams after reading the darkest secrets of some people, but as time drew on and his inner spirit began to change, it no longer bothered him. In fact, he learned to enjoy the images of sickly craving, bloody murders, and irregular fantasies.  
  
Last week he had peeked into the mind of a business typhoon who appeared on TV, smiling and greeting reporters, and discovered that the man killed his newborn child years ago with a pair of scissors.  
  
He liked it.  
  
The sudden ringing of the bell brought him out of the trance in a snap. Quickly, Andrew diverted his gaze from the girl and gathered his things, preparing to head out the door with his head down, avoiding attention as usual.  
  
"Andrew?" He stopped in his tracks and took a frustrated breath. Then, with a fake smile plastered on his face, he turned to the teacher. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he answered pleasantly.  
  
"I've been a little worried about you, Andrew," the teacher said with such sweet concern in her voice that he felt sick. "You haven't been paying attention in class at all. If this goes on, I'm afraid I'll have to call your mother and speak with her."  
  
Andrew cocked his head in a defiant angle. "And what can she do about it?"  
  
The teacher looked at him oddly. "Don't you care about your studies at all, Andrew?"  
  
"I know everything I need to," he replied. "There is nothing that you can teach me. Haven't my test scores been satisfactory?"  
  
"Well, yes, but during class..."  
  
He raised a hand and stopped her. "In class, you just worry about the other children," he said. "As for me, long as I'm doing well on those tests, what's it to you?"  
  
The teacher stood up. "Andrew!" she exclaimed. "What does your mother say about this attitude of yours?"  
  
Andrew simply gazed at her as several moments passed. Then, calmly, icily, he said, "Mrs. Nashisuke, you think your husband is cheating on you, don't you?"  
  
The teacher started. "What?"  
  
"Oh yes, you've always had your suspicions." He leaned on her desk and propped his head up with his hands, a perfect little angel pose. "You found that lipstick print on his shirt, didn't you? Well, why don't you go to his office now? And see where else he's getting kissed, hm?"  
  
Without another word, he walked out of the classroom, knowing well that there would be no calls to his mother tonight. Mrs. Nashisuke's anguish was delicious.  
  
~*~  
  
Under the dim light of the lab sat up in Myotismon's old castle, Lily worked diligently as another dark ring was born in her hands.  
  
~*~  
  
24 hours after Myotismon came into existence, Joe Kido sat in his room with Ice Gomamon as his side. The balance of power between the light and dark was shifting and that meant his power was almost ready to be used.  
  
"Time to take it for a test drive," he said to Gomamon, who simply stared at him. The digimon had become darker with each moment. Soon, the simpering little Bukamon he once had would be completely gone, replaced by a black soul.  
  
Joe sat in a lotus position on the floor. It was not a comfortable position for most kids, but his body had become much more nimble. He drew a deep breath and blew softly into the room.  
  
What came out was not air but a small blue flame.  
  
Ice Gomamon uttered a sound that could have been a laugh or a frightened shriek.  
  
NEXT UP: THE WAVE OF DARKNESS 


	7. Wave of Darkness

Ch.7 Wave of Darkness  
  
At the moment Myotismon came into existence, the time was 9:30 p.m., April 13. Two hours after that, Vicky Ichijouji and Ben Kamiya placed a call to Dane Ishida, asking him about aliens. At precisely midnight, 12 a.m., both their phones went dead. While the rest of Odeiba functioned on, the fog began to spread.  
  
At 1 a.m., the phone rang and the Ichijouji house. Ken and Yolei were huddled against each other, sleeping quietly on the bed. For a moment as Ken woke, it seemed as if everything was all right, that it was all a dream. Then he felt the cold metal of the dark ring against his neck. His wife gave him a frightened look. He kissed her gently, trying to reassure her while unsure how reassured he was himself, and picked up the phone with one trembling hand.  
  
"Hello?" he said. His voice was abnormally pleasant, as was Mona's instruction.  
  
"Expect company," a voice on the other end said.  
  
"Mona?" Ken croaked. "Mona, where are you?"  
  
"You are not to speak to them," the child ignored his question. "You are to let them in and close the door behind them. They will all be there in the next forty-eight hours. If anyone else shows up, send them away. PLEASANTLY. You will know which visitors are your guests."  
  
"Mona, wait..."  
  
"DO NOT speak to them. They will be instructed not to speak to you."  
  
"Please..." the other side hung up with a click.  
  
Yolei sat up tiredly and gazed at her husband. Ken didn't want to look at her, didn't want to see the hopeful expression on her face. He smiled sadly.  
  
"Get dressed, honey," he said. "We have guests to greet."  
  
Yolei didn't reply. Instead, she got off the bed and walked across the room. The way she moved made his heart break. She was like a zombie, floating in the air. Slowly, she made her way to the window and pulled back the drapes.  
  
Odeiba was covered in purple, as if swallowed by a violet beast.  
  
~*~  
  
3:34 a.m., August 14  
  
Travis Ishida stroke the small winged digimon in his lap. It made a happy sound that was between a purr and a hiss. The Demidevimon was small and although stronger after training, was still not the best fighter. But no matter, soon the little thing would digivolve. And then...  
  
He grinned at the thought.  
  
He knew well of his father's experience with Devimon. It was a part of history nowadays: the very first major battle within the digital world. And that was what had gotten him interested in Devimon. The giant digital demon had defeated all of the digimon of the digidestined, and in Travis's opinion, his defeat by that puny Patamon's digivolution was merely a fluke, resulted from exhaustion.  
  
A sound came from the next room. Travis had no trouble identifying his father's breathing with his sharp hearing. He had the dream again, obviously. The change in breathing pattern meant he woke up.  
  
"Here's something for your dreams, pop," he whispered. With one finger, he poked the Demidevimon in the belly. It squirmed and began to laugh softly.  
  
A footstep, very light.  
  
Travis held the Demidevimon in his hands, lifted it up and tossed it into the air. It giggled with delight as Travis focused his hearing on the door, knowing well that his father was watching his every move.  
  
A soft gasp.  
  
Then more footsteps, a little heavier this time, obviously panicked, as his father headed back to his own room. Travis felt like laughing, but he didn't. Laughter was a sign of emotion, and with the upcoming work, emotion had to be eliminated.  
  
A beep came from the computer on his desk. Recently he had kept it on 24-7, sending and receiving emails with the others. He watched as the digiport pulled up automatically on the screen and opened.  
  
In a flash of light, an object fall out of the computer and landed on the floor with a hard "clang". Demidevimon squeaked and jumped out of his hands into a corner. It was a black metal ring.  
  
Travis looked at it and wondered whether to touch it. The computer beeped again. This time, it was an email, from Lilith Izumi. Curiously, he opened it and began to read.  
  
A few minutes later, he couldn't help but smile.  
  
~*~  
  
4:05 a.m.  
  
Tyler Techenouchi picked up the black ring given to him by Duncan and felt it in his hands. It was cold, very cold, and without a flaw on its surface. Experimentally, he grabbed a pair of scissors and scratched the ring with its blade. It left no mark whatsoever.  
  
"Excellent craftsmanship, don't you think so, Biyomon?" he said. The gray bird digimon looked up at him and grinned.  
  
"Don't forget the otthhher..." she hissed.  
  
"Of course not," Tyler replied. There was a second, slightly small ring sitting on his bed.  
  
"For the light bearer," Duncan had instructed him, "if possible."  
  
Quietly, smooth as a snake, Tyler slipped to the door of his mother's bedroom. He could hear her soft snoring through the door. He carefully opened the door and walked to her bedside, standing over her like a phantom, the ring in his hand.  
  
~*~  
  
10:28 a.m.  
  
Andrew Tachikawa was in computer class when Lilith walked by him and dropped the package in front of him and left without a word. Without even opening it, he knew what was inside. Lilith was well aware of his powers, and all the instructions needed were already send to his mind.  
  
That afternoon, around three-thirty, his teacher burst into her husband's office and found him in a compromising position with his secretary. Devastated, she stumbled out and wondered around the city. On a bridge, she lost her footing while leaning over the side and fell down. The river was shallow, so she broke her neck.  
  
At four, Andrew returned home, only to find that his mother was not home, and her Palmon was cooking on the stove.  
  
"When's mom coming back?" he asked cheerily.  
  
"Any minute now," the green digimon replied. "If you're hungry I'm almost done with dinner."  
  
"Oh, it's OK," Andrew said as his poison digimon appeared behind Palmon, tentacles extended, ready to attack. "How's your day?"  
  
~*~  
  
5:10 p.m.  
  
Joe Kido was taking a nap on his desk after another long day when he heard a crisp snap and the cold metal on his neck. He sat up groggily and tried to rub his eyes and found out that he couldn't. In fact, his body had gone completely stiff. Suddenly worried, he looked around and found his son Josh standing in his office.  
  
"Josh?" he said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing here?"  
  
His son didn't answer. "Stand up," he said.  
  
Surprise, Joe found himself on his feet. "I don't have time for games, Josh," he said sternly.  
  
"This is no game, dad," his son said with a voice so cold Joe felt goose bumps on his arms, and he suddenly noticed that Josh wasn't wearing his glasses.  
  
"Where are your glasses, Josh?"  
  
"I can see just fine, dad," Josh replied and pointed to a corner of the office. "Can you?"  
  
Joe turned his head in that direction and saw that Gomamon was lying on the floor, badly beaten. On top of him was another digimon, one that resembled a Gomamon but looked like it had been put through some kind of Frankenstein- ish experiment. It looked back at him and snarled.  
  
"Wh..."  
  
"Shut up," his son said simply. And as his mouth closed he suddenly realized exactly what was on his neck. "You have questions, they will be answered. But not here. These are your instructions..."  
  
~*~  
  
"Go to the Ichijouchi's place," Duncan told his mother, who was standing numbly in front of him, a dark ring clamped tightly on her neck. "Do not draw attention to yourself. Walk, don't take public transportation. Wear a high-collar jacket. Once there, do not speak to anyone. Just sit somewhere and compose yourself. You will be given instructions later. Understood?"  
  
Kari nodded. There were tears in her eyes as she gazed at Gatomon again. The poor cat digimon was unconscious on the floor, scratched and restrained by the black virus her son had created.  
  
"Good, now go."  
  
As his mother walked out the door with a strained smile on her face, Duncan checked his watch.  
  
6 p.m. Right on schedule.  
  
~*~  
  
Head throbbing and heart aching, Ken began to get up as the doorbell rang once more. On the couch next to him sat Joe, who looked up with a gaze of fear but didn't speak. Across from them, huddled together with tears streaking down their faces were Sora and Mimi, with Yolei between them. Their silent sobbing was eerie and heartbreaking. Each knew what was happening but could exchange no words. The black rings around their necks looked as if they were tools of cruel torment, draining the life out of them.  
  
Isn't that what they are? T.K. asked himself silently. He had sat on the floor with his face hidden in his hands, painfully reliving the terrible battle with Devimon.  
  
Their digimon partners had been taken by their children. In a few hours, every nightmare, every horrid fantasy had come true. They wanted to ask questions but feared the answers. Besides, every time one of them opened their mouth to speak, the ring sent a painful wave of mental shock through their nerves.  
  
Ken gave Joe a wane smile and walked toward the door. Weary eyes followed him, slightly hopeful but also filled with dread. Slowly, the door opened.  
  
A strained whimper escaped Kari's lips as she surveyed the room. All at once the truth hit her and she wanted to scream. But the ring choked her off as she stumbled into Ken and Yolei's home and fainted, falling limply into Ken's arms.  
  
~*~  
  
Mona sat high upon what used to be Myotismon's throne. Compared to her small body, it seemed huge, like a shadowy beast looming over her, ready to attack. Yet, she filled it rather nicely. Postured like the empress that she was, Mona let her gaze wonder the dark, ominous hall. Night had fallen and there was no moon in the sky. The thick purple fog had drowned it out, perhaps forever. The stars, once clear and beautiful, suffered the same fate.  
  
Not a single candle was lit inside the castle and the darkness was too heavy to distinguish even the faintest shadows. If a common person was to raise his hands in front of his face, just inches away, he would not be able to see the outline of his fingers. But Mona Ichijouji was not a commoner. Without the slightest effort, she took note of the cold stone floor, luxurious blood-red rug, and the giant stone columns that stood to eitherr side of her new throne like loyal guards. The feeling of power was delicious.  
  
The creak of the huge wooden doors drew her attention, but it did not require her full awareness to determine the identity and purpose of her visitor. Only a few had the rare privilege of approaching her with such directness, and their purpose was always clear.  
  
The young lieutenant Duncan Kamiya appeared as the doors opened to his sides. Like Mona and the others, he no longer needed his physical strength to perform trivial tasks. He bowed slightly and began to enter with Dark Gatomon at his heels. Mona stopped him with a slight wave.  
  
"Leave your pet outside. I would rather not have the likes of them in my chambers."  
  
Duncan paused. Then, barely audible, he turned to the black cat and made a clucking sound in the back of his throat. Gatomon hissed in reply and disappeared into the darkness.  
  
"Very good," Mona said with chilling authority. "Now come."  
  
Duncan nodded and took a few steps toward the throne as the doors, seemingly by themselves, slammed shut. A shiver crawled up his spine as they doors banged against each other. Mona had done it and she was the only of the group that could cast her powers from such a distance and more. To Duncan, it was both admirable and fearful.  
  
"You have news?"  
  
He quickly straightened himself. "Yes. The movement operation has been completed."  
  
Mona tilted her head to one side almost cutely. "Is that so?"  
  
"We are awaiting your instructions."  
  
A sneer appeared on Mona's face. "What is your suggestion, lieutenant?"  
  
Duncan was taken back by the question. "Pardon?"  
  
"You have to make some decisions around here, too, Duncan," Mona said matter-of-factly. "I won't be around all the time when the construction of our empire is underway. Surely you understand that."  
  
"Of, of course."  
  
"So," she twisted a strand of oil-black hair around her finger, "do you know what to do at a time like this?"  
  
Duncan hesitated. The question felt like a trap. Should he give an answer he deemed proper, she may be displeased because it may not coincide with her own thoughts, but if he answered with deliberate humbleness, she may label him as incompetent. Feeling torn, he gave a light shrug.  
  
"You hesitate." Before he could answer, she went on. "You doubt yourself. That is unacceptable. I do not tolerate weakness on my force."  
  
The boy felt fear for a moment.  
  
"But that is all right for now. You will have time to learn as the war proceeds. For now, contact the others and tell them to rest and recover their strength. But be prepared. Always be prepared. The time is near."  
  
Duncan bowed and breathed in relief. "Yes, my empress. I will carry out the word."  
  
Mona felt delight in her darkened heart as he backed out of the room. As soon as the room was silent once again, a lone figure approached the throne from behind and lingered, slightly timid.  
  
"You heard."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Mona's voice hardened. "Yes, what?"  
  
A second passed as the figure felt the stinging wounds left on his back from the girl's whip the night before and the words came though gritted teeth. "Yes, my mistress."  
  
The child smiled. "Seems you need better discipline, pet."  
  
The other said nothing.  
  
"Now then, Lord Vampire," the young queen stated, "time for your first assignment."  
  
~*~  
  
Gatomon was the first to wake up. But she only had a second to see her friends lying unconscious on the cold dungeon floor before pain and darkness struck again.  
  
~*~  
  
Myotismon walked up the steps of the castle toward the uppermost level, where the brown-haired girl's lab was located. He had not yet memorized all their names, but had no need to since he had no privilege of addressing them. His mistress had made that clear.  
  
Mistress, ha! He thought with disgust.  
  
The lashes on his back had been an interesting experience, and a very unpleasant one at that. But the humiliation was greater. The small girl, just half his height, had ordered him to kneel before her without the control of the ring. He had refused, and soon learned that refusal was intolerable.  
  
She had smiled, ever so slightly, as the ring took over and his body moved against his will. Never had he himself constructed a ring with such power and control. He had thought of that as his body bent and fell to the floor. The girl, or rather, the ring, ordered him to unbutton the upper part of his uniform and remove it, exposing his bare torso to her.  
  
Then she had punished him, with a whip so thin and delicate it looked as if it was incapable of harm, but when it stuck, his screams were only choked off by the ring on his arm. He should have known. The whip was also his creation, a little toy he had given to the Digimon Emperor long ago. It was quite a piece of work, lined with microscopic razor blades and charged with electricity.  
  
Back in the old days, he had never thought it would hurt this much.  
  
She had only given him three lashes, one of which threatened to fracture his shoulder. It was enough for him to dig his fangs into his lips so hard they drew blood. Then, still smiling, she ordered him to dress, and sleep. The latter wasn't easy to do with the blood slithering on his back.  
  
The humiliation of been pained by his own creations was almost unbearable.  
  
The door was the lab was slightly ajar and the door appeared totally dark and unoccupied. But Myotismon knew better than that. Unhesitating, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. A girl sat at a long workbench, pounding away in front of a computer. She glanced up at him slightly, and it pleased him slightly to see that his presence seemed to make her uneasy.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked, turning back to the glowing screen.  
  
There was a time when beings died for speaking that way to him. "My mistress sent me with an assignment." The words felt gritty.  
  
Absently, Lilith moved one hand to her right and pressed a button hidden on the side of the machine. The room was filled with light as a digiport was opened in the middle of the room. "Ichijouji residence?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
A few more taps on the keyboard. Myotismon was slightly relieved that she wasn't as picky as titles as his mistress was. "You have an hour."  
  
He nodded and stepped into the digiport. In a flash he was in the real world again. It was an odd feeling to be in this place again, very odd indeed.  
  
The room surrounding him as entirely unfamiliar but it was supposed to be the bedroom of Mona. Everything in the room was simply adorable, from the Hello Kitty alarm clock to the soft violet wallpaper. But for Myotismon, it was easy to tell they were all a cover. Everything cute in appeared to be brand new, as if they were never touched.  
  
The hardening scars on his back stung again and he grimaced. It reminded him of the consequences should he report back late. Not wasting any time, he stepped out of the room into the hall. Soft sounds were coming from the living room as he approached it. He could see six, no, seven people there. None of them seemed to be moving and none of them spoke.  
  
One of them had long light brown hair. The sight of her excited him.  
  
Although she was not under his power, this encouraged him slightly. Straightening his posture, he stepped into the light and faced them.  
  
The eighth child took one look at him and screamed despite the dark ring around her neck.  
  
AUTHOR"S NOTE: ok, ok. Been a LONG time, I know. I'm sorry. College is exhausting. If this chapter is bad. I apologize. I may be losing my touch. But if you're still interested, here's the deal: I have no idea what's going to happen except that it's gonna be a heck of a nasty war. If you keep reading this story, I'll be finding out what's going on along with you because, well, I don't know the result. Thanks and review! 


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